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)  PERSONAL  RECOLLECTIONS  \ 

I  Of  \ 

j  SERVICE  j 

\  THE  ARMY  of  the  CUMBERLAND  \ 

\  and  \ 

I)  Sherman's    Army  I) 

V  From  August  17,  1861  to  July  20,  1865.  V 


By   S.  A.  McNeil, 

Company  F.    31st  Ohio  Veteran 
Volunteer  Infantry 


PREFACE. 

This  little  book  is  written  at  the  sug^g^estion  of  relatives 
of  the  writer  and  is  published  without  any  apology  for 
whatever  it  may  lack  as  an  up  to  date  publication. 

The  incidents  recorded  are  those  of  which  the  writer  had 
personal  knowledge,  excepting  where  it  is  otherwise  stat- 
ed. The  rapid  transformation  of  a  lad  of  seventeen  to  a 
seasoned  veteran,  was  largely  due  to  the  wise  counsel  of 
the  writers  father,  Andrew  McNeil,  who  was  an  earnest 
christian  man  and  was  unflinching  in  his  loyalty  to  the 
Union  cause  and  believed  that  no  sacrifice  was  too  great 
if  it  would  aid  the  proper  authorities  of  our  Government 
to  crush  the  Southern  rebellion  and  bring  the  seceding 
States  back  into  the  Union. 

THE  AUTHOR 


fk 


// 


PERSONAL  RECOLLECTIONS 

Of 

ARMY  LIFE 

The  Battle  of  Stone  River,  Tennessee 

Our  first  and  only  experience  in  the  immediate  rear  of  a 
largfe  army  during-  a  great  battle  ,was  on  December  31,  1862 

Our  brig-ade  commanded  by  Colonel  M.  B.  Walker  was 
g-uarding-  a  bridg"e  over  Stewarts  Creek,  not  far  from  the 
Nashville  pike  and  about  midway  between  that  city  and 
Murfreesboro.  General  Joe  Wheeler  s  cavelry  was  doing-  all 
sorts  of  mischief  in  the  rear  of  our  main  army  under  Rose- 
crans,  who  had  formed  his  lines  the  previovs  evening-,  with 
the  left  resting-  on  Stone  River,  and  almost  within  cannon 
shot  of  Murfreesboro,  the  headquarters  of  the  Commander 
of  the  rebel  army.  The  foregfoing-  will  explain  why  we 
were  hurrying-  South  toward  Murfreesboro  on  the  morning- 
December  31,  1863.  with  many  miles  between  us  and  the 
cedars  of  Stone  River,  where  at  that  hour,  the  right  divis- 
ion of  Rosecrans  armj^^  was  crumbling-  to  pieces  under  a 
fierce  attack  of  two  divisions  of  Confederates,  who  had 
g-ained  the  rear  of  the  Union  rig-ht  wing-.  South  of  the 
little  hamlet  La  Vergne,  we  came  upon  Wheelers  Cavelry 
burning-  a  wagon  train  belong-ing-  to  our  army.  Our  brig-ade 
soon  drove  the  confederates  from  the  burning-  wag-ons-Van 
Homes  "Army  of  the  Cumberland"  says- "Walkers  brig-ade 
recaptured  eight  hundred  of  our  men  and  the  train  animals." 

1 


STONE  RIVER 

Agfain  we  started  for  the  front,  the  sound  of  the  battle 
was  distinctly  heard  and  we  realized  that  our  army  was 
fig-htingf  a  great  battle  to  decide  the  question  of  our  farther 
advance  toward  the  Tennessee  river  and  Chattanooga. 
As  we  marched  south  on  the  Murfreesboro  pike  the  sound  of 
battle  was  more  and  more  distinct  and  the  "thump, thump" 
of  the  artillery  seemed  to  us  an  accompaniment  to  the 
constant  roll  of  musketry.  Thoug-h  it  was  our  first  exper- 
ience in  the  immediate  rear  of  a  great  army  at  the  opening- 
of  a  battle,  the  noise  of  the  battle  was  not  a  strang^e  sound. 

There  is  always  a  drifting-  away  of  more  or  less  strag-g"- 
lers  from  a  line  of  troops  under  fire,  but  the  wreckag^e  of 
an  entire  division,  which  had  been  swept  from  the  Union 
rig-ht  that  morning-,  by  an  overwhelming-  force  of  confeder- 
ates, was  a  real  surprise  to  us,  as  we  marched  with  ranks 
well  closed,  in  the  direction  from  which  came  the  incessant 
roar  of  artillery  and  small  arms.  The  soldiers  we  met 
were  to  a  great  extent  members  of  one  of  the  best 
divisions  in  Rosecrans  army,  and  the  misfortune  which 
drove  them  from  the  field  at  the  opening  of  the  battle 
was  largely  the  result  of  incompetenc}^  or  to  put  it  mild, 
the  gross  neglig-ence  of  officers  of  hig-h  rank. 

Many  of  the  severly  wounded  were  helped  along"  by  their 
strong-er  comrades,  and  the  greater  number  appeared  to 
be  overcome  by  the  awful  disaster  of  the  early  morning-, 
but  some  were  terror  stricken  and  seemed  to  think  of  noth- 
ing- except  their  own  personal  safety.  We  offered  some 
advice  to  the  latter  class,  and  one  of  my  comrades   sug-g-- 

2 


STONE  RIVER 
ested  to  one  of  the  strag-g^lers,  that  he  oug"ht  to  stop  for 
dinner  at  a  sand-pit.  But  in  spite  of  our  "kidding""  if  v/e 
had  expressed  our  honest  opinions,  we  were  not  encouragf- 
ed.  From  our  own  knowledg^e  of  conditions  just  then  the 
tide  of  battle  was  against  our  comrades  on  the  battle  line. 

IIow  is  it  going"  now  at  the  front?  was  one  of  the  quest- 
ions asked  the  men  we  met  With  few  exceptions  the  ex- 
hausted soldiers  would  inform  us  that  the  Confederates 
were  having  every  thing  their  own  way.  One  bright  boy 
with  a  shattered  arm  replied  as  follows,  I  will  quote  his  re 
ply  from  memory.  "They  drove  our  men  back  to  the 
Nashville  pike  this  morning,  but  I'll  bet  a  brass  watch 
that  before  Bragg"  g"ets  through  with  this  job  he  will 
want  Rosecrans  men  to  stop  killing"  rebels."  We  cheer- 
ed the  boy  who  I  hope  lived  to  see  the  end  of  the  rebel- 
lon.  We  had  been  in  active  service,  at  the  front  more 
than  a  year,  and  we  really  thought  that  ours  was  a  reg- 
iment of  seasoned  veterans,  but  the  anxiety  of  both,  the 
officers  and  soldiers,  was  perceptible  as  our  column  app- 
roached the  battle  field. 

In  every  regiment  of  soldiers  of  that  war  were  men  and 
boys  who  would  indulg-e  in  card  playing.  The  old  g"arae  of 
"Seven  up"  and  "drawpoker"  served  to  pass  away  the 
time  while  in  camp,  and  many  of  the  comrades  carried  a 
"deck"  in  the  blouse  pocket.  During  the  last  two  miles 
of  our  march  toward  Stone  River,  cards  were  thrown  a- 
side  as  undesirable  property,  and  at  one  place  the  Murf  ree- 
sboro  pike  was  so  nearly  covered    with  the    little    paste- 

3 


STONE  RIVER 
boards  that  one  could  imag-ine  the  cards  had  snowed  down. 
I  have  serious  doubt  about  there  having  been  one  deck 
of  cards  left  in  the  pocket  of  a  soldier  belongfing  to  the 
brigade  when  we  arrived  at  the  front,  Kings  queens  and 
spots  were  at  a  discount,  but  the  pocket  bibles  and  test- 
aments held  their  own  as  they  have  in  times  of  peace 
and  in  times  of  war  for  many  centuries.  When  our  com- 
mand came  within  view  of  the  battle  lines  it  was  afternoon 
and  to  our  surprise  the  confederate  attack  had  spent  its 
force  and  from  the  bank  of  Stone  River  on  our  left,  to  the 
cedars  on  our  right  were  solid  lines  of  blue  with  ranks 
closed  up,  waiting  for  the  next  move  in  the  great  battle 
of  Stone  River. 

To  me  the  battle  lines--the  part  of  our  lines  we  could  see- 
were  grand,  and  I  never  afterward  doubted  the  ability  of 
that  Superb  Army  of  the  Cumberland  to  recover  from  a 
temporary  disaster. 

Chiekamauga 

When  the  Army  of  the  Cumberland  started  from  the  vic- 
inity of  Winchester,  Tenn.  on  the  campaign  which  resulted 
in  the  battle  of  Chiekamauga  and  the  capture  of  Chatta- 
nooga, weclimbed  a  range  of  mountains  to  reach  the  Tenn- 
essee river  and  crossed  the  river  near  the  mouth  of  Battle 
Creek. 

Our  division  (Brannon's)  had  no  pontoons  to  bridge  the 
river  and  the  soldiers  built  rafts  of  timber  and  lumber  taken 
from  a  sawmill,  and  from  other  buildings  near  at  hand.    A 

4 


CHICAMAUGA 
raft  would  carry  one  army  wagfon  or  one  field  gfun.  The 
motive  power  was  long-  poles  in  ttie  hands  of  soldiers.  It 
required  about  as  many  men  and  as  much  time  to  make 
the  return  trip  with  no  load  as  it  did  to  take  a  wag^on  or  a 
company  of  soldiers  to  the  south  side.  The  water  in  the 
river  was  at  a  low  stag^e  and  the  artillery  horses  and  train 
mules  were  made  to  swim  where  the  water  was  too  deep 
to  wade.  Some  of  the  men  made  canoes  and  dug-outs 
and  that  was  one  of  the  many  instances  where  the  intelli- 
g-ence  and  skill  of  the  soldiers  of  the  rank  and  file  accom- 
plished wonders.  Some  of  the  rafts  were  marvels  of  boat 
architecture  and  when  properly  manag-ed  would  carry 
almost  as  much  stuff  as  the  little  ferry  boats  on  southern 
streams  at  that  period. 

On  several  occasions  during"  that  war  men  who  had  not 
been  gfraded  high  in  discipline  and  soldierlyconduct,  sprung- 
into  prominence  by  showing  their  skill  in  some  special 
manner  which  broug-ht  them  to  the  notice  of  the  command- 
ing- officers,  and  from  that  time  those  soldiers  appeared  to 
take  greater  interest  in  the  prosecution  of  the  war  and  ev- 
idently believed  that  each  individual  soldier  was  an  im- 
portant cog-  in  that  mag-nificient  military  machine.  "The 
army  of  the  Cumberland." 

The  horses  crossed  the  river  without  accident,  but  the 
mules  would  sometimes  g-et  panicy  in  the  water,  and  if  a 
mule  g-ot  loose  from  the  others  in  the  channel  of  the  river, 
he  was  a  g-one  donkey;  instead  of  swimming-  with  the  others 
to  shore  he  would  keep  g-oing-  in  a  circle   and  bray    most 

5 


CHICAMAUGA 
pitiously  until  his    nose  went  under  water  and  his  tail  ap- 
peared above  the  waves.     If  he  had  exerted  himself  in  the 
right  direction  he  could  have  reached  shallow  water  from 
where  he  could  have  waded  to  the  shore. 

The  faithful  army  mule  was  a  factor  in  the  war  of  the 
rebellion,  and  without  him  it  would  have  been  well  nig-h 
impossbile  to  have  secured  animals  to  haul  the  miles  of 
wagon  trains,  and  later  in  the  war,  pack  animals  to  carry 
camp  equipage  and  intrenching  tools. 

While  on  the  subject  of  "The  army  mule,"  which  has 
been  a  subject  of  much  ridicule  and  sarcasm.  I  will  di- 
gress from  the  Chickamauga  campaign  and  give  one  in- 
stance of  the  strong  attachment  of  the  armj'^  teamster, 
"mule  whacker."  for  the  faithful  saddle  mule  of  his  team. 

Elijah  Lister  was  detailed  as  assistant  teamster  at  div- 
ision headquarters.  This  was  at  Savannah  Georgia  in  the 
winter  of  1864  and  1865,  and  comrade  Lister  is  authority 
for  the  following.  He  was  assigned  as  the  assistant  of  a 
teamster  who  drove  one  of  the  finest  mule  teams  in  the 
14th  army  corps.  The  six  mules  were  almost  perfectly 
matched  in  color  — very  dark  Sorrel  or  dark  tan — the 
"wheel"  mules  were  unusually  large,  the  swing  team  were 
not  quite  so  large  and  the  lead  team  were  of  ordinary  size. 

On  the  Atlanta  campaign,  and  on  the  "March  to  the 
Sea".  I  frequently  saw  that  team  of  six  mules  and  noted 
their  good  condition. 

It  was  up  in  North  Carolina  in  March  1865,  that,  both 
teamsters  were  out  on  a   foraging   tour.     They  had  gone 

6 


\ 


CHICKAMAUGA"— On  the  South  side  of  Tennessee, 
a  few  miles  from  where  the  division  was  in  camp  for  that 
afternoon.  Lister  was  riding"  one  of  the  lead  team  and 
his  companion  was  on  his  faithful  saddle  mule,  ''Jennie." 
The  boys  had  some  bacon  and  some  North  Carolina  beans 
and  were  riding-  back  to  the  road  on  which  the  wag^on  train 
was  "parked."  when  a  squad  of  Wade  Hampton's  cavelry 
took  the  boys  and  mules  under  their  charg^e.  Lister  and 
his  companion  were  ordered  to  dismount  and  a  rebel  soldier 
was  about  to  lead  the  mules  away  when  the  head  team- 
ster put  his  arms  around  the  neck  of  his  saddle  mule  and 
weeping-  most  piteously  said,  "Oh!  Jennie,  my  faithful 
friend,  g"ood-bye."  The  animalplaced  her  nostrils  ag"ainst 
his  shoulder  as  thoug"h  she  really  understood  the  sad  part- 
f  rom  her  kind  master.  The  war  soon  closed  and  both  team- 
sters lived  to  g^et  home. 

Oa  the  South  Side  of  Tennessee 

It  was  the  peach  season  when  we  started  on  the  march 
up  the  valley  and  across  the  mountain  rang-es  into  the 
Chickamaug-a  valley. 

While  crossing-  Lookout  Mountain,  some  twenty  miles 
south  of  Chatanoog"a,  a  comrade  called  attention  to  a  de- 
lapidated  cabin  not  far  from  the  mountain  road  on  which 
we  were  marching-.  On  investig-ation,  we  found  a  family 
of  poor  whites  in  a  destitute  condition.  About  that  time 
the  column  halted  and  the  shanty  was  surrounded  by  the 
first  Yankees  those  wretched  people  had  ever  seen. 

7 


ON  THE  SOUTH  SIDE  OF  TENNESSEE 
Without  any  remarks,  commands  or  sugfgestions  as 
to  what  should  be  done  in  the  case,  each  of  us  contri- 
buted from  the  limited  supply  of  food  in  our  haversacks 
until  there  was  a  pile  of  hardtack,  pork,  beans  and  g-enuine 
Yankee  coffee  (ungfround)  on  the  floor  of  that  hovel  suff- 
icent  to  feed  the  family  for  several  days. 

The  sig-ht  of  that  poverty  stricken  family  touched  a 
place  in  the  heart  of  every  soldier  there.  It  was  a  mute 
appeal,  such  as  will  always  bring"  response  from  those  who 
are  broug"ht  face  to  face  with  human  misery. 

Before  the  next  full  rations  were  issued  to  our  brig^ade 
the  battle  of  Chickamaug^a  had  been  fought  and  a  number 
of  the  boys  who  had  shared  their  scanty  rations  with  the 
occupants  of  the  mountain  cabin,  were  left  on  the  battle- 
field, dead,  and  doubtless  the  Confederate  soldiers  in  g'oing- 
over  the  field,  wondered  why  those  boys  had  been  carry- 
ing" empty  haversacks. 

Chickamaaga  First  Day 

On  Friday  nig"ht  Sept.  18,  1863  Brannons  division  of  the 
14th  army  corps,  marched  all  night  passing"  Crawfish 
Springs,  Lee  and  Gordon's  mill  and  the  Dyer  farm.  Early 
in  the  morning  of  the  19th  we  halted  at  the  roadside,  on 
what  I  have  since  learned  was  the  McDaniel  farm  and  near 
the  north  line  of  the  present  Chickamauga  National  Park. 

Before  we  g"ot  fires  started  to  make  coffee,  the  brig-ade 
moved  east  of  the  Lafayette  road,  some  distance  and  we 
concluded  that  Colonel  Connell  our  brigfade  commander  was 

8 


CHICKAMAUGA 
uncertain  about  where  he  should  move  his  command      We 
heard  f ireing"  east  or  southeast  in  our  front. 

The  31st  Ohio  was  taken  from  the  brig-ade  and  we  mov- 
ed in  the  direction  of  the  fireing-;  we  piled  our  knapsacks 
by  companies,  leaving"  one  man  of  each  company  to  g^uard 
them. 

We  moved  forward  some  distance  and  formed  on  the  left 
of  the  10th  Kentucky,  which  was  the  left  regiment  of 
Croxton's  brig-ade,  which  had  really  opened  the  battle  an 
hour  previous,  and  had  retired  a  short  distance  for  a  fresh 
supply  of  ammunition.  The  woods  in  our  front  was  full 
of  rebel  troops  and  they  were  driving-  Starkweathers  bri- 
gade back  toward  our  line. 

On  they  came  with  a  howling-  mob  of  Confederates  at 
their  heels.  The  horses  belong-ing  to  the  Fourth  Indiana 
battery  and  Loomis'  battery,  dashed  wildly  throug-h  the 
woods.  The  guns  of  these  two  batteries  had  fallen  into 
the  hands  of  the  Confederates  who  had  fiercely  attacked 
Starkweather  before  his  lines  were  properly  formed.  About 
this  time  I  noticed  that  the  faces  of  the  comrades  on  my 
right  and  left  were  somewhat  paler  than  usual;  doubtless 
if  I  could  have  had  one  glance  in  a  mirror  just  then,  the  ab- 
sence of  youthful  bloom  on  my  own  face  would  have  sur- 
prised me.  An  Officer  came  running-  back,  he  was  thor- 
oughly demoralized.  A  comrade  near  me  brought  his  g-un 
down  and  threatened  to  punch  him  if  he  did  not  halt  and 
try  to  reform  his  men  who  were  running  over  us. 

The  officer  pushed  aside  the  gun  and  went  over  us  like  a 

9 


CHICKAMAUGA 
jack  rabbit  running-  from  a  greyhound. 

We  had  been  in  active  service  about  two  years  and  had 
been  under  lire  many  times,  but  it  was  a  most  trying-  exper- 
ience to  lay  flat  in  the  woods,  southeast  of  the  Kelly  field, 
while  a  disorganized  mass  of  our  own  soldiers  went  pell- 
mell  over  us,  with  an  irreg-ular  line  of  Confederates  shoot- 
and  yelling-  at  their  heels. 

The  men  in  g-ray  halted  at  a  respectful  distance  in  our 
front.  The  last  bunch  of  our  men  had  passed  over  to  the 
rear,  when  at  a  signal  our  line  raised  up  and  poured  a 
volley  into  the  line  of  Confederates,  which  scattered  those 
"Johnnies"  and  sent  them  back  in  the  direction  of  Jay's 
Mill,  with  our  line  close  at  their  heels.  "We  pushed  them 
southeast  past  the  4th  Indiana  Battery  which  they  had 
taken  from  Starkweather  within  the  hour  previous  to  the 
time  we  got  into  the  fig-ht. 

A  detail  of  men  under  Capt.  Bill  Free  hauled  the  gfuns 
and  cassions  back  in  the  direction  of  Kelly's  field;  not  a 
sound  horse  of  the  entire  battery  was  within  sight. 

The  31st  reformed  its  line  of  battle,  moved  to  the  rigfht 
and  joined  again  the  left  of  the  10th  Ky.  who  g-reeted  us 
with,  "bully  for  the  "31st"  Ohio."  Here  we  checked  an- 
other charge  of  the  enemy  and  followed  them  to  a  point 
within  g-unshot  of  Jays  Mill. — That  position  is  marked  by 
a  marble  tablet  which  stands  north  of  Jays  Mill  and  Broth- 
er ton  road — 

While  at  that  advanced  position  a  heavy  force  of  the 
Confederates  came  up    in  our   front  and    reached  beyond 

10 


CHICKAMAUGA 
our  left.  The  Johnnies  begfan  to  shoot  down  our  line  from 
left  to  rig-ht  and  we  were  ordered  to  retire  slowly;  while 
the  enemy  followed  with  their  boasted  rebel  yell.  It  was 
here  that  the  men  of  the  rank  and  file  displayed  the  splen- 
ded  qualities  of  the  American  Soldier.  In  our  efforts  to 
delay  the  advancing-  lines  of  grey,  I  recall  the  fact  that 
every  boy  in  that  retreating-  line  of  blue  was  a  hero,  Four 
or  five  hours  of  close  work  had  fanned  the  timid  fellows 
out  of  the  line,  and  they  were  drifting"  somewhere  in  the 
rear.  We  loaded  our  Spring-fields  as  we  walked  back, 
then  turning-  about  fired  into  the  faces  of  our  foes,  I  vent- 
ure to  say  that  most  of  our  shots  knocked  the  dust  out  of 
some  part  of  a  g-rey  uniform.  In  spite  of  their  long-er  line 
which  overlaped  our  left,  we  made  that  retreat  of  ours  an 
expensive  advance  for  Brag-g-s  men.  While  loading-  for  an- 
other shot  at  the  Johnnies  we  almost  bumped  up  ag-ainst  a 
line  of  our  troops  who  had  been  sent  in  to  take  charg-e  of 
the  fellows  who  were  crowding  us  back  to  the  north  west 

Those  fresh  troops  that  relieved  our  depleted  line  were 
the  finest  appearing-  soldiers  I  had  ever  met. 

Perhaps  the  knowledg-e  that  we  had  "bit  of  f  more  than 
than  we  could  chew"  and  the  rapid  decrease  of  weig-ht  of 
our  catridg-e  boxes  added  to  the  appearances  of  the  line  of 
fresh  troops,  who  g-ave  the  johnnies  a  rattlingf  volley  of 
minie  ball,  then  drove  them  back  in  the  direction  of  Jays 
Mill.  Only  those  who  have  been  there  can  fully  realize 
my  condition  when  the  regiment,  (what  was  left  of  it) 
marched  back  toward  the  Lafayette  road,  replenished  our 

11 


CHICKAMAUGA 
cartridgfe  boxes  and  stretched  out  on  the  ground  for  a  brief 
rest.    To  use  the  slang  of  to  day,  "I  was  all  in." 

In  the  close,  hard  fig^hting  of  September;  19  th  1863. 
Company  P.  was  roughly  handled  by  the  enemy.  David 
M.  Cahill  was  killed.  Lt.  J.  J.  Miller,  James  Cooley,  H. 
N.  W.  Simmons,  W,  S.  Winters  and  others  were  wounded. 

An  enlisted  soldier  can  not  see  all  that  occurs  in  his  own 
company  during-  a  battle,  but  I  remember  some  incidents  of 
that  eventiful  Saturday.  "While  the  Confederates  were 
driving  one  of  our  brigades  over  us  as  we  lay  in  line  on  the 
left  of  the  10  th  Ky,  a  color  bearer  stopped  at  our  line 
and  said  "boys  if  you  promise  to  stand  by  me  and  this 
flag,  I  will  not  go  one  step  farther  to  the  rear."  a  group  of 
our  boys  promised  to  carry  his  flag-  if  he  fell  in  the  battle. 
The  brave  Sergeant  was  not  with  us  very  long.  An  officer 
of  his  regiment  came  with  an  order  for  him  to  join  his  own 
command  which  was  forming  in  line  a  short  distance  from 
where  we  first  met  the  advancing  Confederates. 

As  was  John  Jordan,  color  Sergeant,  of  the  21  st  Wis, 
Infantry,  captured  the  next  day  Sept.  20.1863.  and  died  in 
Andersonville  Prison.  This  information  was  given  in  a 
letter  from  a  member  of  the  21  st  Wis.  Inf.  to  the  writer 
in  1883. 

All  of  the  dead  and  many  of  the  wounded  of  both  armies 
were  left  on  the  ground  over  which  we  fought.  Each  side 
had  held  and  lost  the  same  ground  twice  or  thrice  during 
the  day.  The  dying  soldier,  whether  he  wore  the  blue 
or  the  grey,  spoke  the  last  message  for  friends    at  home 

12 


CHICKAMAUGA 
into  the  ear  of  him  who  would  pause  and  hear  it. 

The  wounded  soldiers  on  that  field  were  all  Amercians 

James  Cooley  was  on  his  way  to  a  point  where  the 
ambulance  train  was  loading-  up  with  wounded  men.  His 
arm  was  shattered  and  the  blood  was  f lowingf  freely,  Jim 
was  indulging"  in  adjectives  addressed  to  the  fellow  who 
shot  him  in  the  arm,  whoever  that  fellow  was,  when  he 
heard  a  pitiful  call,  "Oh  g"ive  me  a  drink  of  water."  Jim 
looked  at  the  wounded  boy,  in  g-ray  uniform,  and  said 
something-  about  his  own  condition,  and  his  canteen  being- 
almost  empty.  A  moment  later  Jim  stood  in  front  of  his 
wounded  enemy  saying-,  "Here  Johnnie,  drink  all  you 
want." 

A  ball  wounded  a  soldier  in  the  f  ing-er,  Under  the  in- 
tense excitement  of  the  moment,  he  ran  full  speed  to  the 
rear  swinging-  his  wounded  hand  and  yelling-  "For  Gods 
sake,  somebody  carry  me  off  the  battle  field." 

The  most  trying-  moment  of  that  day  was  when  the  con- 
federates were  forcing-  us  back,  and  we  were  stubbornly 
yielding  ground. 

I  had  just  fired  at  the  advancing-  rebels,  and  faced  about 
to  load  when  I  saw  Hartley  Dew  of  Co,  A.  cap  his  g-un  and 
aim  at  the  enemy.  I  was  almost  in  front  of  Dew,  and 
stepped  aside  to  pass  him,  when  a  bullet  struck  him. 

Poor  Bart  fell  forward,  dead..  The  sickening^  sound  of 
the  ball  striking-  him.  and  the  boy  lying-  there  at  my  feet, 
for  an  instant,  rattled  me.  and  I  could  hardly  resist  an  im- 
pulse to  run  away  from  danger. 

13 


CHICKAMAUGA 

I  had  seen  many  of  the  boys  shot  down  that  day  and 
thougfht  I  was  proof  agfainst  a  nervous  attack,  while  under 
fire,  but  the  death  of  Dew  made  me  a  coward  for  the  mo- 
ment. Nelson  P.  Swank,  helped  a  wounded  comrade  back 
to  the  rear,  and  was  returning-  to  the  battle  line  at  the 
front  when  a  squad  of  Johnnies  who  had  become  separated 
from  their  own  command,    took  Swank   under  their  care. 

One  of  the  Southerners  said,  "Here  Yank,  I  will  carry 
your  g-un,  I  know  you  are  tired."  Swank  was  a  prisoner 
and  could  almost  see  the  g^ate  of  a  Southern  prison  pen 
opening  to  admit  him  into  the  presence  of  untold  misery 
and  starvation. 

The  confederates  had  taken  their  prisoner  a  short  dis- 
tance, when  several  guns  clicked  and  Swanks  captors 
were  looking  into  the  barrels  of  a  dozen  guns  in  the  hands 
of  as  many  determined  Yankies,  "Johnnie"  said  Swank 
very  deliberately,  I  will  carry  my  own  gun,  I  know  you 
you  are  tired."  and  taking  his  own  gun  from  the  confed- 
erate Swank  soon  found  the  regiment  and  got  busy  with 
the  rest  of  us. 

The  above  incident  will  g*ive  the  reader  some  idea  of  the 
mix  up  of  friends  and  foes  where  Brannon's  division  fought 
back  and  forth  between  the  two  roads  leading  to  Alexand- 
ers bridge,  and  Reed's  bridge.  A  brigade  was  sent  in 
where  it  was  needed.  Sometimes  a  regiment  or  two  was 
fighting  far  out  in  front,  "all  by  themselves,"  It  was  a 
fierce  deadly  struggle,  a  rough  and  tumble  fight  of  irregu- 
lar lines  of   battle,    successes  and   reverses.      Doubtless 

14 


CHICKAMAUGA 
many  of  the  soldiers  of  both  armies  got  into  a  mixup  that 
day  similar  to  comrade  swank's  capture  and  escape. 

A  bunch  of  confederates  threw  down  their  gfuns,  saying-, 
"Yanks  we  surrender."  They  were  told  to  g-o  back  to 
somebody  who  had  time  to  guard  them. 

In  the  evening-  the  31st  joined  our  own  brigade,  which 
had  been  where  the  Reeds  bridge  tower  now  stands. 

We  bivouaced  near  a  pile  of  straw  in  the  Dyer  field  that 
night.  Our  knapsacks  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the 
enemy  about  4  P.  M.,  and  doubtless  while  the  writer  was 
shivering,  under  a  bunch  of  straw,  through  the  long  hours 
of  the  night,  some  Confederate  was  snoozing  comfortably 
under  a  U.  S,  blanket. 

It  is  safe  to  say  that  the  Confederate  would  improve  the 
first  opportunity  to  read  certain  letters  he  would  find  in 
the  knapsack. 

In  this  connection,  I  will  state  that  early  in  the  follow- 
ing- month  while,  on  the  outpost  picket  line  in  front  of 
Chattanooga,  a  member  of  the  31st.  was  informed  by  a 
Confederate  picket  that  he  (the  confederate)  had  a  knap- 
sack which  formerly  belong-ed  to  a  soldier  of  the  31st  Ohio. 
The  Johnnie  was  informed  that  he  must  be  mistaken,  be- 
cause that,  regiment  had  not  carried  knapsacks  for  some 
time  past. 

Cliieamaaga,  Second  Day 

We  were  roused  from  our  straw  beds  in  the  Dyer  field 
before  daybreak  Sunday  morning,  Sept.  20,  1863,  and  were 
placed  in  position  in  the  timberland  along  the  west  side 

15 


CHICKAMAUGA 
of  the  Poe  field, — the  position  is  marked  by  the  31st  Ohio 
monument. — 

The  sun  came  up  in  all  the  splendor  of  a  southern  autumn 
morning-.  Hardly  a  shot  was  heard  to  disturb  the  peace 
and  quiet  of  the  Sabbath.  A  heavy  mist  or  smoke  hung- 
over  the  field  soon  after  sunrise,  so  we  could  not  see  our 
own  skirmishers. 

We  could  hear  the  wounded  begging"  for  water.  One 
man  seemed  to  be  only  a  short  distance  in  our  front.  Jerry 
Gladhill  of  Co.  F.  with  a  canteen  filled  with  water  volun- 
teered to  relieve  the  poor  fellow.  He  had  been  gone  a  few 
minutes  when  a  shot  broke  the  stillness  of  the  early  morn- 
ing- and  Jerry  came  out  of  the  smoke  running  like  a  deer. 
When  he  had  sufficient  breath  to  talk,  Jerry  related  how 
he  had  found  the  poor  fellow  who  had  been  there  all  night 
and  while  in  the  act  of  handing  the  canteen  to  the  wound- 
ed soldier,  a  shot  was  fired,  and  a  bullet  cut  one  of  the 
straps  by  which  he  held  the  canteen.  "Then"  said  Jerry, 
"I  came  away." 

Stones,  rails  and  logs  were  piled  up  to  shelter  our  line 
from  the  musketry  of  the  enemy.  We  held  that  line  against 
every  charge  of  the  enemy  until  about  noon  when  our  pos- 
ition was  attacked  from  the  rear  by  a  confederate  force 
passing  through  a  gap  left  by  the  withdrawal  of  two  bri- 
g:ades  of   Wood's  division,    on   the   right  of  our  brigade. 

Lieutenant  J.  J.  Miller  gave  the  order  to  our  company 
to  retire  from  that  position. 

A   detachment   of   the   regiment  rallied  on   Snodgrass 

16 


CHICKAMAUGA 
Ridgre,  where  a  marker  now  stands,  and  fought  till  night 
on  the  line  where  our  beloved  commander  General,  Geo. 
H.  Thomas,  earned  and  won  the  title,  "The  Rock  of  Chick- 
amauga."  After  we  left  the  Poe  field  the  writer  was 
with  another  detatchment  of  the  31st  which  had  the  reg- 
imental flag  and  was  commanded  by  Lt.  Col.  Lister. 

Many  writers  of  the  battles  of  the  Civil  war  have  imp- 
ressed the  idea  that  the  second  days  fighting  at  Chick- 
amauga  was  the  gigantic  struggle  of  the  two  days  battle. 

This  is  true  so  far  as  it  relates  to  that  part  of  the  army 
which  beat  back  the  enemy  on  Sunday  morning,  when 
Bragg  was  determined  to  crush  the  left  of  our  army,  and  it 
is  especially  true  concerning  General  Thomas  and  his  men 
in  holding  the  line  on  Snodgrass  Ridge,  against  the  dete- 
rmined and  repeated  attempts  of  five  times  their  number 
of  Confederates  to  carry  the  position.  There  is  nothing  in 
the  annals  of  the  Civil  war  that  shows  greater  courage,  and 
heroism,  than  the  defense  of  Snodgrass  Ridge  by  General 
Thomas  and  his  soldiers,  on  the  afternoon  of  Sept.  20,  1863 

It  is  also  true  that  in  dramatic  features  the  second  days 
battle  over  shadowed  the  first.  But  the  writer  has  always 
insisted  that  the  war  of  the  rebellion  furnished  no  better 
test  of  the  fighting,  and  staying  qualities  of  the  American 
soldier,  than  was  shown  by  the  army  of  the  Cumberland 
in  the  first  days    battle. 

There  was  no  choosing  of  positions  for  lines  of  infantry 
and  field  artillery.  There  was  no  time  for  maneuvering 
troops  or  for  military  tactics.     Brigades,  and  even  single 

17 


CHICKAMAUGA 
regfiments,  were  hurried  forward  to  points  where  the  en- 
emy was  most  aggressive.  It  was  an  all  days  fight  by 
the  enlisted  men.  Almost  every  available  regiment  in 
Rosecrans  army  was  heavily  engaged,  some  place  along  the 
line,  in  Saturdays  battle.  The  battle  of  Sunday  was  begun 
on  positions  selected  by  an  army  Commander  and  his  sub- 
ordinate generals,  and  the  entire  right  wing  of  the  army 
of  the  Cumberland  was  swept  from  the  battlefield,  as  the 
result  of  a  mistaken  order  issued  by  the  commander  of  the 
army,  and  which  was  obeyed  too  promptly  by  a  subordin- 
ate officer  commanding  a  division. 

Since  the  close  of  the  Civil  war  the  sentiment  prevails, 
even  in  the  North,  that  Chickamauga  was  a  Confederate 
victory.  The  only  possible  ground  for  such  conclusion  is 
the  fact  of  the  enemy  having  held  the  battlefield  for  two 
months  after  the  battle. 

The  battle  having  been  fought  along  the  Chickamauga, 
ten  miles  South  of  Chattanooga,  was  an  accident.  General 
Rosecrans  compelled  the  Confederate  commander,  Bragg, 
to  evacuate  the  city  of  Chattanooga  without  a  battle. 
Bragg  retreated  South  until  Longstreet,  with  25,000  men 
from  Lee's  army,  was  within  supporting  distance,  when 
Bragg  attempted  to  place  his  army  between  Rosecrans, 
and  Chattanooga.  Bragg  was  making  good  progress  when 
Brannon's  division  struck  the  confederate  infantry  Satur- 
day morning  and  brought  on  the  battle. 

More  than  two  thirds  of  the  soldiers  of  Roseceans  armj'- 
never  saw  Chattanooga,  which  was  the  objective  point  of 

18 


EXCHANGE  OF  WOUNDED 
the  campaigfn,  until  after  the  battle  of  Chickamaugfa  was 
fougflit.  To  sum  up  the  results;  the  battle  was  fougfht  for 
the  possession  of  Chattanoog-a — the  gfateway  to  the  inter- 
ior of  the  South — the  loss  of  w  hich  was  disastrous  to  the 
southern  cause.  The  union  army  held  Chattanoogfa  and  it 
was  never  afterward  in  the  possession  of  the  Confederates, 
but  to  them  it  was  lost  forever.  And  Chattanoog"a  became 
the  base  of  supplies  for  Shermans  army  on  the  Atlantia 
campaigfn,  and  later  on,  to  supply  the  army  for  the  March 
to  the  Sea, 

Exchange  of  Wounded 

A  few  days  after  the  battle  of  Chickamaugfa,  we  were 
firmly  intrenched  and  did  not  fear  the  result  of  an  assault 
by  the  enemy,  investing-  Chattanoogfa.  An  exchange  of 
wounded  Confederates  within  our  lines,  for  an  equal  num- 
ber of  our  own  wounded  comrades  left  within  the  enemy's 
lines  was  arrang^ed  for.  About  the. 30th  of  September  a 
long  train  of  ambulances  filled  with  wounded  Confederates 
passed  outside  of  our  intrenchments,  near  the  right  of  our 
brig-ade.  Late  in  the  afternoon  the  ambulance  train  return- 
ed to  Chattanoog-a.  with  our  wounded,  who  had  been  left 
within  the  enemys  line  about  ten  days  before. 

Hundreds  of  our  soldiers  lined  up  along-  the  Rossville 
road  to  g-reet  our  wounded  comrades  as  they  came  inside 
of  the  Union  lines. 

Although  they  had  been  prisoners  less  than  two  weeks, 
it  was  a  joj'^ful  home-coming-  to  the  boys  in  the  ambulance 

19 


AN  ENTERTAINMENT 
train.  Those  who  were  able  to  make  any  demonstration 
were  almost  overcome  when  they  saw  the  line's  of  rifle 
pits  with  the  regfimental  flag's  waving"  here  and  there,  and 
the  lines  of  soldiers  in  blue  uniforms.  One  of  the  wound- 
ed soldiers  exclaimed.  ''Why,  There  is  the  Old  flag"  sure 
enough."  another  said  "Thank  God  we  are  home."  and 
"you  boys  look  mig"hty  g"ood  to  me." 

To  them,  rebel  flags  and  gray  uniforms  were  associated 
with  hung"er,  misery,  suffering"  and  death.  But  the  very 
sight  of  the  men  in  blue  with  the  Stars  and  and  Stripes 
waving  above  them,  meant  better  care,  something"  g"ood  to 
eat  and  letters  from  home. 

An   Entertainment 

One  Sunday  there  was  a  crowd  of  soldiers  g"athered  at 
the  headquarters  of  Van  Derveer,s  brigade. 

It  had  been  announced  that  Prof.  Murdock  of  Cincinnati 
would  entertain  the  soldiers  of  our  division  for  an  hour. 
Mr.  Murdock  was  a  fine  elocutionest  and  was  roundly  ap- 
plauded by  the  soldiers.  A  glee  club  belonging  to  the  35th 
Ohio  sung  patriotic  songs.  The  Confederates  had  some 
heavy  guns  on  the  point  of  Lookout  mountain.  When  an 
unusual  g"athering  of  soldiers  were  seen  in  camp  in  Chat- 
tanoog"a,  this  battery  on  the  mountain  would  send  their 
huge  shells  in  that  direction.  A  g"entleman  from  Ohio — 
I  cannot  recall  his  name — was  delivering  a  speech  on  the 
progress  of  the  war.  I  remember  he  spoke  highly  of  our 
record  in  the  war,  and  spoke  of   General    Thomas   as   the 

20 


CHATTANOOGA  RATIONS 
"Rock  of  Chickamaug-a."  Near  the  close  of  his  speech  he 
declared  that  within  a  few  weeks,  a  battle  would  be  foug-ht 
on  the  heig^hts  around  Chattanoogfa,  that  would  have  a 
grreater  effect  in  bringfing-  the  war  to  a  close,  than  any  bat- 
tle fougfht  prior  to  that  time.  He  was  going-  along-  nicely 
when  a  puff  of  smoke  shot  out  from  the  point  of  the 
mountain,  more  than  1000  feet  above  us  and  more  than 
one  mile  away.  The  report  of  the  g-un  seemed  to  shake 
the  g-round,  and  a  largfe  shell  burst  in  the  air  before  it 
reached  us.  The  speaker  winced  and  looked  anxiously  in 
the  direction  of  the  mountain,  then  closed  his  speech. 

We  smiled  and  trudg-ed  back  to  our  part  of  the  line.    That 
shell  knocked  the  oratory  out  of  the  g-entleman  from  Ohio. 

Chattanooga  Rations 

Prom  Sept.  21st  to  Nov.  1st  1S63,  the  army  at  Chattan- 
oog-a  was  hung-ry  all  the  time.  The  enemy  had  possession 
of  our  short  route  to  Bridg-eport,  making-  it  necessary  to 
haul  our  rations  over  the  mountain  roads  which  were  in 
such  bad  condition  that  the  half  starved  train  animals 
could  not  haul  more  than  half  of  an  ordinary  load. 
The  only  square  meal  enjoyed  by  our  mess  in  that  time 
mentioned,  was  secured  througfh  a  business  transaction,  of 
which  mv  comrade  and  bunkmate  A.  I.  Hig-g-ins  was  the 
promoter.  Higgins  was  busy  for  several  days  with  the 
men  who  had  the  care  of  the  officers  horses.  He  finally 
secured  ten  ears  of  corn,  which  one  "Hosier"  had  saved, 
one  ear  at  a  time,  by  cutting-   off  that    amount   from   the 

21 


NIGHT  ATTACK  AT  CHATTANOOGA 
reg^ular  rations  allowed  for  the  horses.     The  consideration 
for  the  ten  ears  of  corn  was  a  pound  plugf  of  tobacco,  which 
had  been  captured  by  our  forces   when   Chattanoog^a  was 
taken  from  the  enemy,  and  distributed  among  the  men. 

The  corn  was  shelled  and  it  made  a  big"  mess  pan  full 
of  old  fashioned  lye  hominy. 

We  got  away  with  that  hominy  at  supper,  and  during  the 
evening'  told  stories  and  boasted  of  having-  had  one  square 
meal  since  our  arrival  in  Chattanooga. 

I  expected  a  good  nights  rest  and  sought  my  bed  of  rough 
boards,  with  a  gum  poncho  for  a  mattress  and  a  single 
blanket  for  a  covering;  but  there  was  no  sleep  for  me  that 
night.  My  entire  system  was  in  a  g"reat  commotion  and 
I  would  not  have  given  five  cents  a  bushel  for  all  the 
hominy  in  Tennesee. 

Night  Attack  At  Chattanooga 

When  one  attempts  to  write  of  events  which  occurred 
more  than  forty  years  ago,  the  mind  becomes  active  on 
that  special  subject.  I  now  recall  one  amusing  incident 
during"  a  night  attack  of  the  enemy.  We  were  busy 
strengthening  our  works  during  the  week  following"  the 
battle  of  Chickamauga,  and  Braggs  men  were  pushing- 
their  lines  up  close  to  ours,  and  the  Johnnies  were  boast- 
ing- that  they  could  take  the  town,  in  spite  of  our  fortifi- 
cations. 

A  regiment  on  our  left  had  found  some  telegraph  wire 
which  they  fastened  to  trees  and  stumps,  about  one  hund- 

22 


OHIO  SOLDIERS  COULD  VOTE, 
red  yards  in  front  of  their  rifle-pits.  The  wire  was  placed 
about  six  inches  from  the  g^round  and  was  drawn  tight. 
That  nig-ht  our  pickets  were  driven  back  to  our  main  line 
of  works,  with  the  confederates  close  after  them.  When 
our  pickets  were  safely  within  our  line  of  works  the  order 
was  given  to  open  fire  on  the  enemy. 

When  the  fireingf  ceased  we  heard  a  few  Johnnies  wrest- 
ling with  the  wire  in  front  of  the  troops  on  our  left.  Every 
time  a  Johnnie  stumbled  over  the  wire,  the  sound  would 
locate  the  victim,  who  would  get  a  few  shots  before  he 
could  escape  from  the  mysterious  thing  which  was  throw- 
ing him  down.  Doubtless  those  fellows  wondered  what 
sort  of  a  contrivance  the  Yankees  had  placed  out  there  in 
front  of  the  breastv/orks. 

Ohio  Soldiers  Could  Vote 

Among  the  states  that  passed  a  law  giving  their  soldiers 
in  the  field  the  right  to  vote,  was  the  Buckeye  State.  The 
evening  before  the  day  on  which  the  Ohio  election  was 
held,  the  31  st  was  sent  to  relieve  the  17  th  Ohio,  on  the 
picket  line.  By  an  agreement  entered  into  by  the  Yanks 
and  Johnnies,  on  our  part  of  the  line,  (Turchins  brigade) 
there  was  no  picket  firing  during  the  hours  of  daylight, 
unless  by  order  of  the  proper  officers,  and  if  such  an  order 
should  be  given,  a  certain  signal  was  agreed  upon.  Hence 
it  was  a  a  daily  occurrence  for  the  blue  and  the  grey  to 
discuss  the  issues  of  the  war  and  exchange  courtesies  on 
the  picket  line,  or  on  the  skirmish  line,  in  front  of  Chat- 


THE  YOUNG  REBEL 
tanoogfa.  C.  L.  Vallandigfham  was  the  Democrat — copper 
head — candidate  for  Govenor  of  Ohio,  and  John  Broug-h  was 
the  Republican--  Union — candidate.  On  the  morningf  of  elec- 
tion day  the  82nd  Indiana  of  our  brig"ade  came  out  and  took 
the  place  of  the  31st.  on  the  skirmish  line.  As  we  were 
preparing"  to  return  to  our  camp  the  boys  in  gray  inquired 
about  the  new  rule  of  changing"  the  pickets  in  the  morning, 
instead  of  in  the  evening"  as  formerly.  We  informed  them 
that  Ohio  troops  voted  for  state  officers  that  day,  I  reck- 
on you  all  will  vote  for  Vallandigham."  Said  one  Johnnie. 
Another  fellow  asked  ,  "Got  any  copperheads  in  your 
regiment.  Yank,?-'  "Not  a  one,"we  replied.  "Well"  he 
continued,  "We  hear  that  Indiana  is  solid  for  Valland- 
igham." Both  sides  laug"hed,  and  as  we  marched  away  the 
same  fellow  shouted.  "Say  Yanks  what  are  you  all  g"oing" 
to  do  about  them  copperheads  up  North"? 

The  confederate  soldiers  seemed  to  be  well  posted  as  to 
political  conditions  in  the  North. 

The  Young  Rebel 

On  the  26th  or  27th  day  of  October  1863,  Hazen's  and 
Turchins  brigades,  by  a  well  executed  movement,  captured 
Browns  Perry;  the  possession  of  that  crossing  of  the  Ten- 
nesse  river  enabled  General  Thomas  to  connect  with  Hook- 
er who  was  bringing"  the  11th  &  12th  corps,  from  Bridge- 
port. 

It  was  hardly  daybreak  when  we  crossed  the  river  in 
pontoon  boats,  which  had   been   floated   down  the  river 

24 


THE  YOUNG  REBEL 
during"  the  nig-ht.  The  enemy's  outposts  were  taken  by- 
surprise  and  climbed  the  hills  on  the  south  side  of  a  ravine 
leading-  from  the  river  to  the  valley,  about  eig-hty  rods 
west.  The  enemy  fired  into  our  ranks  from  the  hills 
which  appeared  to  be  thickly  populated  by  confederates, 
and  their  bullets  sounded  "powerful  wicked",  as  one  of  our 
men  put  it. 

The  hills  were  soon  cleaned  of  the  enemy  excepting  a 
sing-le  confederate  who  kept  up  the  shooting",  g^iving  a 
rebel  yell  after  each  shot  fired.  From  his  voice  we  thought 
he  was  a  very  young"  soldier,  and  he  was  surely  a  plucky 
boy  to  fire  several  shots  after  all  of  his  companions  had 
left  the  hill.  I  never  think  of  Browns  Perry  without  re- 
calling" the  young  confederate  who  stood  his  g^round  alone, 
shooting"  and  yelling",  after  his  command  had  ceased  fire- 
ing"  and  had  left  the  position. 

We  fortified  and  stayed  there  three  days.  During"  that 
time  Hooker  came  into  the  valley  and  foug^ht  the  night 
battle  at  Wauhatchie.  In  the  three  days,  the  only  rations 
issued  to  our  reg"iment  was  a  small  slice  of  fresh  beef  to 
each  man.  Oar  bill  of  fare  was  parched  corn  for  break- 
fast, the  same  for  dinner  and  ditto  for  supper.  Oh  ye  epi- 
cures, and  chronic,  kickers  of  nineteen  hundred  and  nine. 
I  wish  you  could  have  three  meals  such  as  were  served  to 
one  of  Turchin's  soldiers  at  Browns  ferry  in  Oct.  1863. 
You  would  then  quit  your  everlasting"  grumbling"  and  your 
patient  wife  could  g"et  a  much  needed  rest  from  the  old  to- 
pic,  "My  mother  cooked  the  best  meals  I  ever  sit  down  to." 

25 


OQR  FLAG— MISSIONARY   RIDGE 
Our  Flag  On  Lookout  mountain 

From  our  position  we  could  see  Hookers  men  fig-hting-, 
near  the  Craven  liouse,  on  the  side  of  Lookout  mountain. 
Nov,  24th  1863.  Once,  in  the  afternoon,  a  heavy  mist  hung: 
along-  the  side  of  the  mountain  between  us  and  the  soldiers 
under  Hooker,  hence  the  name.  "The  battle  above  the 
clouds".  The  morning' of  Nov.  25th  was  clear.  About  sun- 
rise we  saw  a  regfimental  flag",  the  Stars  and  Stripes, 
waving-  on  the  top  of  old  Lookout. 

"Our  flag-  is  on  Lookout'"  was  the  word  passed  along- the 
line,  and  the  boys  cheered  and  shouted,  It  was  a  dramatic 
scene.  From  the  foot  of  Lookout  to  the  Railroad  tunnel 
under  Missionary  ridgfe,  and  from  the  river,  where  it  pass- 
es Chattanooga,  to  Orchard  Knob  on  the  East,  were 
reg"iments  brig"ades,  divisions  and  army  corps,  numbering- 
perhaps  fifty  thousand  soldiers,  all  cheering-  at  the  sig-ht 
of  a  sing-le  flag-  waving-  away  up  on  the  north  point  of 
Lookout  mountain,  and  about  1300  feet  above  the   valley. 

Before  the  close  of  that  day  the  men  who  had  carried 
the  Stars  and  Stripes  throug-h  the  battles  of  Stone  river 
and  Chickamaug-a  had  swept  Brag-g-s  army  from  Missionary 
Ridge  and  our  flag- was  waving-  over  four  miles  of  Confed- 
erate rifle-pits. 

November  25th  1863  was  a  g-lorious  day  in  the  history 
of  the  army  of  the  Cumberland. 

Missionary    Ridge 

In  the  battle  of  Missionary  Ridg-e  the  31st   Ohio   was  in 

26 


MISSIONARY   RIDGE 
Turchins    brig-ade,  Bairds's  division,  14th  A.  C. 

In  the  afternoon  of  November  25th,  orders  were  given, 
to  prepare  for  business.  Canteens  were  filled,  blankets 
were  folded  closely  and  twisted  rope  fashion,  the  ends 
tied  together  making"  an  oblong  hoop,  which  was  thrown 
over  the  head  and  rested  on  the  shoulder. 

D.  J.  Cheney  and  the  writer  swapped  work  that  day,  and 
Cheney  insisted  on  having"  his  blanket  twisted  to  the  limit 
remarking  that  it  might  stop  a  rebel  bullet.  Strange  to 
relate  a  bullet  did  pass  through  his  blanket,  which  pre- 
vented the  ball  from  g"oing  through  his  body.  He  recover- 
ed from  the  wound  and  lived  many  years  after  the  war. 
The  signal  to  advance  was  six  cannon  shots  fired  from  a 
battery  on  Orchard  Knob,  which  was  to  the  right  of  our 
brigade  as  we  formed  for  the  assault.  It  was  late  in 
afternoon  when  the  six  shots  were  fired  in  quick  success- 
ion and  we  moved  rapidly  toward  the  ridge  sweeping"  the 
confederate  skirmishers  and  their  reserves  before  us 
like  chaff  before  the  wind.  Their  artillery  on  the 
crest  of  the  ridge,  five  hundred  feet  above  the  valley  we 
were  crossing,  sent  a  perfect  storm  of  shot  and  shell  into 
our  ranks,  but  the  lines  of  blue  kept  steadily  on  until  the 
rifle-pits  at  the  foot  of  the  ridg"e  was  in  our  possession. 
I  remember  we  got  the  impression,  somehow,  that  we  were 
to  stop  there,  but  the  fireing"  from  the  crest  of  the  ridge, 
above  us,  was  terrific,  and  as  if  by  impulse,  the  boys  in 
the  ranks  began  to  climb  the  west  side  of  the  ridge,  shout- 
ing, "Come  on  boys."  and  on  we  went,  without  any  orders, 

27 


MISSIONARY   RIDGE 
so  far  as  I  know,  excepting-  our  own. 

We  were  nearly  exhausted  by  the  race  to  the  foot  of  the 
ridge,  and  we  made  slow  progress.  About  half  way  up, 
we  encountered  an  enfilading-  fire  from  a  force  of  the  en- 
emy who  held  a  position  north   of  a  ravine    on    our    left. 

Farther  up  and  to  the  rig-ht  I  saw  a  man  waving-  a  United 
States  flag-.  He  was  too  far  away  to  see  his  uniform  but 
I  believed,  at  the  time,  that  he  was  a  confederate,  taunt- 
ing-ly  waving-  a  captured  flag-  at  our  line.  While  looking- 
up  at  the  flag-,  a  rebel  musket  ball,  evidently  fired  from 
the  point  to  our  left,  struck  me  just  below  the  jaw  bone 
passing-  throug-h  my  neck.  Two  streams  of  blood  caused 
me  to  believe  an  artery  was  opened  and  that  I  would  soon 
bleed  to  death.  The  first  impulse  was  to  get  back  down 
the  ridg-e,  as  far  as  possible  before  I  should  fall  from 
the  loss  of  blood.  This  I  did  and  reached  the  rifle-pits  at 
the  foot  of  the  ridg-e.  A  shower  of  shot  and  shell  was 
falling-  around  me  as  I  lay  were  I  really  thoug-ht  was  my 
last  resting-  place  while  in  the  flesh. 

An  awful  thirst  came  oyer  me  and  in  my  frantic  efforts 
to  g-et  at  the  canteen  strapped  under  the  waist  belt,  I  cut 
the  canteen  strap  and  g-ot  the  water  to  my  lips.  That 
warm  water  was  the  best  drink  I  had  ever  taken,  and  I 
thoug-ht  perhaps  it  was  my  last.  There  was  no  fear  of 
eternity,  which  it  seemed  to  me  was  very  near.  The 
thoug-ht  of  the  possible  failure  of  the  assault,  and  that  my 
body  would  be  left  within  the  ememy's  lines,  was  worry- 
ing- me  more  than  anything-  else  just  at  that  time. 

28 


MISSIONARY   RIDGE 

Under  the  excitement  of  the  charg-e,  I  believed  victory 
was  certain,  but  after  that  bullet  had  put  me  out  of  the 
figfht  our  defeat  seemed  almost  as  certain.  Many  times 
since  I  have  thought  it  was  strangfe  how  I  could  gfet  the 
impression  that  the  artery  had  been  severed  and  yet  I  was 
livingf  and  able  to  walk.  After  resting-  a  few  minutes  I 
found  that  the  blood  was  not  flowing"  so  freely.  In  the 
pocket  of  my  blouse  was  a  silk  handkerchief,  a  present 
from  mother.  By  pressing-  the  soft  silk  into  the  wounds 
the  flow  of  blood  almost  ceased.  I  was  the  happiest  boy 
in  the  army.  From  where  I  lay  our  irreg-ular  lines  of  blue 
could  be  seen  as  they  slowly  but  persistently  moved  up 
the  ridg-e.  To  the  South  Wood's  and  Sheridan's  divisions 
were  moving-  up  toward  the  crest.  I  started  back  toward 
Orchard  Knob  to  find  a  surg-eon,  but  became  dizzy  and 
was  resting-  when  a  mounted  officer  came  up,  making-  a  few 
remarks  about  strag-g-lers  and  cowards.  I  never  had  much 
respect  for  officers  who  kept  out  of  a  battle  for  the  avow- 
ed purpose  of  stopping-  strag-g-lers.  My  Springrfield  rifle 
was  loaded  and  bringfing- it  to  a  "ready"  told  him  to  g-it. 
Doubtless  he  then  saw  the  blood  on  my  clothes,  for  he 
muttered  a  sort  of  an  apolog-y  and  rode  away,  but  not  in 
the  direction  from  which  I  had  come. 

During-  one  of  the  frequent  halts  for  a  brief  rest  I  saw 
the  flag's  of  Turchin  go  over  the  works  along  the  crest  and 
heard  the  cheers  of  my  comrades.  Off  to  the  south  other 
flags  were  going  over  the  Confederate  works  and,  ''presto 
change". 

29 


IN   THE   HOSPITAL 

The  thunder  of  the  enemys  g-uns  ceased.  A  military  band 
on  Orchard  Knob  struck  up.  "Our  flag-  is  there"  I  raised  my 
hat  to  those  boys  of  the  army  of  the  Cumberland  and  did 
my  best  to  cheer  them,  but  my  voice  would'nt  g^o  off. 
Within  a  short  time  after  witnessing  the  defeat  of  Braggs 
army,  I  found  a  surgeon  of  Woods  division,  who  gave  me 
a  place  in  one  of  his  ambulances  in  which  I  was  taken  to 
Bairds  division  hospital  in  Chattanooga. 

In  The  Hospital 

In  the  hurry  and  excitement,  I  neglected  to  get  the  name 
of  the  surg"eon  who  ordered  one  of  his  drivers  to  take  me 
to  Bairds  division  hospital,  which  was  a  mile  out  of  his 
route.  Perhaps  it  was  my  youth  and  the  nature  of  the 
wound  that  appealed  to  his  sympathy. 

Dr.  Arter,  formerly  surgeon  of  the  31st  recognized  me 
and  promised  early  attention,  but  they  were  broug-ht  in  by 
scores  and  it  was  near  midnight  before  I  got  any  attention- 

Many  were  so  severely  wounded  that  I  realy  thought  I 
was  fortunate  in  having  the  use  of  my  hands  and  feet. 
One  poor  fellow  asked  the  men  who  carried  him  in,  to 
place  him  in  a  sitting  posture  against  the  wall.  He  was 
deathly  pale,  and  I  soon  found  that  it  required  both  hands 
to  keep  his  bowels  from  falling-  out  through  a  ghastly 
wound  in  the  abdomen.  He  was  still  there  when  I  finally 
went  to  sleep.  I  was  awake  at  day-break.  The  room 
was  crowded  full  with  the  wounded,  but  the  Soldier  hold- 
ing both  hands  against  his    poor   battered    body,  was  not 

30 


ONE  INCIDENT— ANTIC'S  OF  SHOT  AND  SHELL 
there.  His  dust,  no  doubt,  reposes  in  the  beautiful  Nat- 
ional Cemetry  at  Chattanoogfa.  After  breakfast  I  went 
out  toward  an  alley,  back  of  the  building"  used  for  the 
hospital,  and  opened  the  door  of  a  small  out  building-  and 
was  about  to  step  inside,  when  I  saw  a  pile  of  arms,  leg's, 
hands,  feet,  fing^ers  and  toes,  which  caused  me  to  shut  the 
door  and  hurry  on  my  way. 

One  incident 

On  the  crest  of  the  ridge,  comrade  Uriah  Cahill  helped 
a  wounded  officer  from  his  horse.  The  officer  stated  that 
he  was  chief  of  ordinance  on  General  Grants  staff,  and  re- 
quested Cahill  and  another  comrade  to  assist  him  to  an  am- 
bulance. 

While  assisting:  the  wounded  officer,  a  General,  com- 
manding a  division  in  the  assaulting-  column,  met  the  party 
and  ordered  Cahill  and  his  companion  to  leave  the  wound- 
ed man  and  join  their  commands  at  once.  The  officer  told 
the  boys  that  they  must  obey  the  order  and  leave  him, 
which  they  were  compelled  to  do,  by  the  orders  of  a  g-ener- 
al  officer  who  seemed  to  lack  any  feeling  of  compassion 
for  those  in  distress. 

Curious  Antic's  of  Shot  and  Sliell 

Amongf  the  many  wounded  in  the  division  hospital  at 
Chattanoog-a,  was  Cyrus  Carter  of  the  31st.  The  ball 
went  through  the  lower  lip  and  smashed  all  the  lower 
teeth  on  that  side,  passing  out  without   serious   injury   to 

31 


THE  ATLANTA  CAMPAIGN 
the  jaw  bone. 

Duringf  the  same  battle  a  ball,  which  had  about  spent 
its  force,  struck  David  Mcllroy  on  the  leather  shoulder 
belt  of  his  cartridgfe  box,  then  bounced  into  a  tin  cup 
which  was  fastened  on  the  belt  strap  of  the  man  next  in 
line. 

In  July  1864,  while  on  guard  at  regfimental  headquarters, 
Mike  Blue  was  wounded  in  the  wrist  by  a  ball  which  was 
really  a  "Astray  ball,"  No  enemy  was  within  less  than 
a  mile  of  where  Blue  was  on  gfuard,  and  there  was  not  a 
sing^le  shot  heard  at  the  time,  yet  he  was  wounded  by  a 
ball  coming"  from  the  direction  of  the  enemy.  We  were 
not  superstious.  but  the  affair  seemed  to  be  spooky  and 
uncanny. 

The   Atlanta  Campaign 

The  story  of  Shermans  Atlanta  campaign  has  been  writ- 
ten by  abler  pens  than  mine,  but  the  scenes  witnessed  by 
the  Blue  and  Gray  on  the  skirmish  lines  during  that  cam- 
paign will,  to  a  great  extent,  remain  forever  as  a  part  of 
the  unwritten  history  of  the  war  of  the  rebellion.  The 
skirmish  pits,  were  sometimes  known  as  "gopher  holes"a 
name  given  them  by  the  western  troops,  and  were  of  the 
greatest  importance.  When  the  line  of  skirmishers  were 
advanced  close  to  those  of  the  enemy,  axes,  picks  and 
shovels  were  brought  up  and  while  some  of  the  men  kept 
the  enemy  down  ,  the  others  were  digging  pit^,  eight  or 
ten  feet  long,  throwing  the  dirt  outward  towards   the   en- 

32 


THE  ATLANTIC  CAMPAIGN 

emy.  Each  pit  would  hold  three  or  four  soldiers  and  were 
made  at  intervals  of  a  few  rods,  with  the  ends  turned  slightly 
to  the  rear  for  protection  against  an  enfilading  fire  of  the  en- 
emy. A  twenty-four  hour  service  in  a  skirmish  pit  located  in 
the  open  country  with  no  shade  to  protect  one  from  the  July 
and  August  sun  was  an  experience  not  to  be  forgotten. 

The  writer  remembers  such  an  experience  while  Sherman 
was  pounding  away  at  Kenesaw  mountain.  We  were  ordered 
to  keep  up  a  regular  fire  from  the  skirmish  pits.  During  the 
day  I  shot  away  seventy-five  rounds  and  cleaned  my  gun  sev- 
eral times.  Once  during  the  day  the  three  of  us  in  our  pit 
ignored  the  shots  from  the  enemy's  skirmishers  and  tired  at  a 
group  of  men  on  the  side  of  Kenesaw  who  appeared  to  be 
viewing  our  lines.  After  several  shots  had  failed  to  move  the 
group.  John  D.  Mather  declared  that  2000  yards  was  about 
the  proper  distance.  Our  gun  sights  were  not  marked  that 
high,  so  we  raised  our  guns  to  what  we  supposed  was  the  prop- 
er elevation  to  carry  a  ball  that  distance.  The  group  of  Con- 
federates soon  dispersed,  but  whether  our  shots  was  the  cause 
of  it,  it  is  a  question  which  I  cannot  answer. 

About  noon  the  heat  was  intense,  and  the  canteens  were 
empty.  By  running  about  forty  paces  to  the  right,  we  could 
have  a  safe  trip  the  remainder  of  the  way  to  the  stream  where 
we  filled  our  canteens.  Someliow,  I  got  a  foolish  notion 
that  I  would  show  those  comrades  that  I  was  not  afraid  of 
rebels  bullets,  so  I  got  out  of  the  pit  and  deliberately  walked 
back  sixty  or  seventy  yards  before  reaching  any  protection 
from  the  bullets  of  the  enemy,  who  improved  the  chance  to 
send  a  fusilade  of  shots  after  me.  Strange  enough,  not  a 
shot  touched  me,  but  I  then  and  there  promised  that  never 
again  would  I  make  my.self  a  fit  subject  for  the  "fool  killer'" 
by  such  silly  conduct. 

33 


CAPTAIN  JAMES  A.  CAHILL 
A  line  of  Bkirmish  pits  at  intervals  of  twenty  yards,  with 
four  nervy  fellows  in  each  pit,  could  be  held  easily  against  a 
charp;ing  party  of  thrice  that  number  advancing  over  open 
ground.  Through  the  months  of  July  and  August,  1864,  the 
writer  was  the  only  duty  sergeant  of  Company  F  subject  to 
detail  for  duty  on  the  skirmish  line,  and  therefore  can  write 
from  actual  experience.  The  reader  should  bear  in  mind  that 
the  skirmishers  of  an  array  have  nothing  but  the  atmosphere 
between  them  and  the  enemy;  then  you  can  imagine  some- 
thing about  the  close  work  required  in  advancing  from  one 
position  to  another  for  a  distance  of  more  than  100  miles,  and 
finding  the  enemy  every  time  in  a  fortified  position  of  his  own 
choosing;  and  the  reader  must  remember,  too,  that  all  of  this 
was  accomplished  in  about  100  days. 

Captain  James,  A.  CahilL 

James  A.  Cahill  commanded  Company  F  on  the  Atlanta 
Campaign,  and  was  killed  near  Kenesaw  mountain.  June  23, 
18H4.  His  brother  Uriah,  now  of  Richwood,  Ohio,  started  to 
take  the  body  back  to  Ohio.  Before  he  reached  Chattanooga 
he  found  it  would  be  impossible  to  get  the  body  of  the  Captain 
back  to  Ohio  for  burial,  and  securing  some  rough  boards, 
Uriah  made  a  cofiin  and  the  body  was  laid  away  in  the  Na- 
tional cemetery  at  Chattanooga,  Tenn. 

From  an  article  by  the  writer,  and  published  in  the  Marys - 
ville  Times  in  the  year  1887,  under  the  title  of  "Our  Captain," 
I  quote  the  following: 

"Captain  Cahill,  was  a  grand  example  of  the  natural 
American  soldier.  He  become  a  soldier  because  he  was  a 
citizen.  While  he  was  prompt  to  enforce  the  orders  of  his 
superiors,  he  never  lost  sight  of  the  fact  that  private  soldiers 
have  rights  which  Officers  are  bound  to  respect.  He  did  not 
hesitate  to  punish  the  guilty,   nor  was  he   slow  to  reward  the 

34 


THE  BLUE  AND  THE  GRAY 

worthy. 

"Captain  Cahill  commanded  the  respect  of  those  above  him 
in  rank,  but  he  was  no  cringing  follower  of  his  superior  offi- 
cers. If  being  equal  to  every  emergency  constituted  a  hero, 
then  truly  our  Captain  was  a  hero.  But  it  was  not  for  him  to 
pass  through  that  ordeal  unscathed.  One  morning,  only  a 
few  days  before  the  stars  and  bars  on  Kenesaw  gave  place  to 
the  stars  and  stripes,  his  lifeless  body  was  carried  back,  and 
Company  F  was  without  a  Captain.  They  shot  him  down  as 
a  boy  would  shoot  a  bird.  All  day  long  the  sound  of  the 
rattling  volleys  of  our  skimishers  would  die  away  for  a  few 
moments,  only  to  break  out  again  with  a  fury  that  showed 
fierceness  of  the  conflict.  Occasionally  a  motionless  form  on 
a  stretcher  was  carried  to  the  rear.  In  the  midst  of  our  un- 
spoken sorrow,  a  strange  officer  came  to  take  the  place  of  our 
dead  Captain.  We  said  nothing,  but.  Oh,  how  we  despised 
those  men  in  gray,  across  that  open  space,  in  the  shadow  of 
Kenesaw,  the  men  who  had  killed  our  Captain. 

"That  night,  as  we  lay  on  the  ground  with  the  sky  for  our 
roof,  we  tried  to  reason  why  the  sacrifice  of  such  men  as  Cap- 
tain Cahill  was  permitted,  and  wondered  if  the  coming  years 
had  in  reserve  a  sufficient  punishment  for  the  misguided  men 
whose  action  made  necessary  the  lonely  graves  which  marked 
the  pathway  of  Sherman's  Army." 

The  Blue  and  the  Gray, 

When  the  Confederates  crossed  the  Chattahoochie  river, 
our  men  were  close  after  their  rear  guard  and  captured  the 
pontoon  bridge,  which  the  enemy  had  not  time  to  take  up. 
The  bridge  was  fastened  to  trees  on  our  side,  and  the  enemy 
would  fell  large  trees  into  the  river  above  our  position.  Some- 
times the  current  carried  one  of  the  floating  trees  against  the 

35 


A  BAND  CONCERT 

bridge,  but  the  ropes  were  strong  and  we  held  ou  to  the 
bridge.  The  skimishers  of  both  armies  were  separated  by 
the  river,  which  at  that  point  was  not  very  wide.  The  blue 
and  gray  were  on  good  terms  and  agreed  on  a  certain  signal, 
if  orders  were  given  to  renew  hostilities.  Once  while  chang- 
ing sentinels  about  midnight,  to  convince  a  sleepy  comrade 
that  it  was  his  turn  for  duty,  the  writer  lighted  a  match  to 
see  his  watch.  Just  then  a  floating  tree  struck  the  wooden 
pontoon  at  the  upper  end  of  the  bridge,  making  a  loud  report, 
followed  by  a  volley  from  the  boys  in  gray  across  the  river. 
Only  one  of  our  boys  lost  his  nerve  and  fired  back.  The 
Johnnies  soon  ceased  firing  and  one  of  them  inquired,  "What 
are  you  all  up  to?"  We  protested  against  them  raising  a  dis- 
turbance at  that  hour  of  the  night,  but  they  insisted  that 
"You  all  were  doing  something  with  the  pontoon  bridge." 

A  Band  Concert, 

While  occupying  the  same  position  on  the  Chattahoochie 
river,  the  officer  in  command  of  the  Confederate  outposts  re- 
quested the  officer  in  charge  of  our  line  to  ask  our  brigade 
band,  which  we  could  hear  as  they  played  every  evening,  to 
come  down  to  the  river.  The  band  responded  and  was  ac- 
companied by  a  number  of  officers  and  soldiers.  It  was  the 
old  regimental  band  of  the  19th  Illinois  Infantry,  which  Gen- 
eral Turchin  had  retained  for  his  brigade  band.  They  were 
a  good  bunch  of  musicians.  I  recall  that  scene.  A  band  of 
musicians  in  their  blue  uniforms,  standing  out  on  the  cap- 
tured pontoon  bridge,  playing  to  an  audience  on  each  side  of 
the  river — on  one  side  the  blue,  on  the  other  side  the  gray. 
We  cheered"  The  Red,  White  and  Blue,"and  other  old  nation- 
al airs.  They  yelled  when  the  band  struck  up  "Dixie"and  "The 
Bonnie  Blue  Flag."  Both  sides  applauded  "Annie  Laurie" 
and  "The  Campbells  are  Coming,"  but  no  demonstration  fol- 

36 


IN  FEONT  OF  A  CONFEDERATE  BATTERY 

lowed  "Home,  Sweet  Home,"  which  closed  the  concert. 

I  have  read  of  similar  musical  entertainments,  said  to  have 
occured  during  the  civil  war,  and  once  heard  a  public  speaker 
relate  jnst  about  such  an  incident,  which  he  said  took  place 
on  the  banks  of  the  Rhappahannoek  in  the  East.  However 
similar  to  other  incidents  of  the  war  this  may  be,  I  can  vouch 
for  the  truth  of  the  foregoing  incident  as  being  correct  in 
every  detail,  as  I  now  remember  it. 

The  officer  in  gray  thanked  the  musicians,  then  got  into  an 
argument  with  some  of  our  officers  about  the  issues  of  the 
war. 

That  night,  "Billy"  Williams,  Jerome  Oatley  and  the  writer 
entertained  the  men  in  gray  until  our  entire  stock  of  war 
songs  and  home  songs  were  used  up.  "Yanks,  that's  all  right, 
give  us  another,"  was  the  frequent  call  from  the  other  side  of 
the  river.  We  finally  gave  them  "John  Brown,"  including 
the  verse  "We'll  Hang  Jeff  Davis  to  a  Sour  Apple  Tree." 
That  song  went  without  any  demonstration  of  approval  from 
the  men  in  gray. 

In  Front  of  a  Confederate  Battery 
Near  Big  Shanty  Georgia, 

The  morning  of  June  18,  1864,  our  line  was  annoyed  by  a 
battery  which  had  got  as  so  nearly  located  that  a  fuse  shell 
would  sometimes  burst  directly  over  us.  Fifty  men  of  the 
31st  were  called  for.  The  ten  from  Company  F  volunteered 
and  the  writer  was  one  of  that  number.  The  ground  was 
soaked  by  a  heavy  rain  which  was  still  falling.  We  were  de- 
ployed in  heavy  skirmish  line  and  worked  our  way  over  a 
plowed  field  until  we,  reached  the  crest  of  a  slight  elevation 
running  almost  parallel  with  and  about  two  hundred  yards  in 
front  of  the  field  works  of  the  enemy.  Our  boys  fired  from 
the  higher  ground  aud  crawled  back  a  few  yards  and  reloaded. 

37 


CORPS  BADGES 

Each  group  of  eight  or  ten  were  instructed  to  aim  at  the  field 
gun  in  their  immediate  front.  [The  rebel  guns  were  pro- 
tected by  field  works  made  of  log  cribs  filled  with  earth.]  The 
first  shots  from  the  battery  struck  the  ground  in  our  front 
and  bouncing  up  passed  over  us  without  injury  to  the  skir- 
mishers, excepting  an  occasional  mud  bath.  Hovvever,  we 
lost  several  men  duriug  the  day  and  night- 

Within  a  half  hour  after  commencing  operations  against 
that  battery  we  had  every  gun  silenced  for  the  rest  of  that  day. 
We  could  detect  any  movement  of  the  rebel  gunners  by 
watching  the  small  opening  through  which  the  cannon  was 
fired,  and,  like  the  fellow  in  the  riot,  "When  we  saw  a  head 
we  went  for  it." 

Our  heavy  line  of  skirmishers  were  in  full  control  of  the 
enemy's  position  in  our  front.  The  Confederate  infantry 
could  do  us  very  little  harm,  a  single  head  shown  above  their 
works  would  draw  a  volley  of  shots  from  our  side.  We  wal- 
lowed in  the  Georgia  mud  till  we  were  plastered  from  head  to 
feet.  I  doubt  if  any  fifty  men  of  Sherman's  army  got  better 
results  from  a  single  day's  work  during  the  Atlanta  campaign. 

The  sorrowful  part  to  record  is  the  death  of  the  brave  boys 
who  went  down  on  that  line.  Among  the  dead  was  John 
Smith  of  Company  F,  a  Rich  wood  boy;  he  was  a  splendid 
boy  and  a  good  soldier. 

Corps  Badges, 

The  Acorn  was  the  badge  of  the  14th  Army  Corps,  a  differ- 
ent color  for  each  division.  The  1st  division  was  red,  the 
2nd  white  and  the  3rd  bine.  [NTote  the  blue  acorn  on  title  page 
of  this  book.]     The  20th  Corps  badge  was  a  five  pointed  etur. 

The  following  story  passed  along  the  line  while  the  army 
was  pounding  away  at  the  city  of  Atlanta:  For  several  days 
the  skirmishers  of  the  14th  Corps  had  kept  up  friendly  rela- 

38 


CORPS  BADGES 

tions  with  the  outposts  of  the  enemy.  One  night  the  Union 
line  was  moved  some  distance  to  tlie  right,  leaving  the  skir- 
mishers of  the  20th  Corps  on  a  part  of  the  line  recently  held 
by  the  14th  Corps.  Early  next  morning  a  Confederate  called 
out,  "Say,  Yanks,  I  reckon  we  will  go  over  your  way  this 
morning  and  gather  a  few  acorns."  Back  went  this  reply 
from  the  soldier  of  the  20th  Corps:  "Say,  Johnnie,  if  you 
come  over  here  for  acorns  today,  you  will  see  stars,  sure 
as ." 

Captain  G.  W.  Pepper  in  his  "Personal  Recollections,"  re- 
lates the  following  "badge"  incident:  "An  Irish  soldier  of  the 
15th  Corps  came  by  the  headquarters  of  General  Butterfield 
at  Chattanooga.  He  was  a  tired  and  weather-beaten  straggler, 
one  of  those  who  made  Sherman's  March  from  Memphis  to 
Chattanooga,  thence  to  Knoxville,  and  was  now  returning  in 
the  cold  of  thai  march  from  Knoxville  to  Chattanooga.  He 
was  thinly  clad,  one  foot  covered  with  a  piece  of  rawhide 
bound  with  strings  about  a  sockless  foot.  "Arms  at  will,"  he 
trudged  past  the  headquarters  guard  intent  only  on  overtak- 
ing his  regiment. 

"Halt,"  said  a  sentinel  with  a  bright  gun,  clean  uniform 
and  white  gloves. 

"What  do  you  belong  to?" 

"Eighth  'Misshory,'  sure." 

"What  division?" 

"Morgan  L.  Smith's,  av  coorse." 

"What  brigade?" 

"Giles  Smith's,  second  brigade  of  the  second  division." 

"But  what  army  Corps?" 

"The  Fifteenth,  you  bloody  fool,  I  am  one  of  the  heroes  of 
Vicksburg.     Any  thing  more.  Mr.  Sentinel?" 

"Whore  is  your  badge?" 

39 


CAPTURING  THE  JOHNNIES 

"My  badge  is  it,  wliat  is  that?" 

"Do  you  see  this  star  on  my  cap?  That  is  the  badge  of 
the  12th  Corps.  That  crescent  on  ray  partner's  cap  is  the 
badge  of  the  11th  Corps." 

"I  see,  now.  That's  how  yez  Potomick  fellers  git  home  ov 
dark  nights.     Ye  takes  the  moon  and  stars  with  ye." 

"But  what  is  the  badge  of  your  corps?" 

Slapping  his  cartridge  box  the  soldier  replied: 

"D'ye  see  that?  A  cartridge  box,  with  a  U.  S.  on  a  bra.ss 
plate  and  forty  rounds  in  it,  and  sixty  rounds  in  oar  pockets; 
that's  the  badge  of  the  15th  Corps  that  came  from  Vicksburg 
to  help  ye  fight  Cliattanoogy." 

It  is  said  that  when  Logan  heard  of  this  incident,  he  adopt- 
ed the  cartridge  box,  v/ith  the  inscription  "Forty  Rounds"  as 
the  badge  of  the  15th  Corps,  [Note— The  11th  and  12th  Corps 
were  consolidated  and  formed  the  20th  Corps  which  served  in 
Sherman's  army  until  the  end  of  the  Civil  war.] 

Capturing  the  Johnnies. 

It  was  August  5,  1864,  according  to  an  entry  made  that 
day,  that  four  companies  of  the  31st  deployed  in  front  of  the 
works,  then  advanced  to  our  skirmishers  who  were  within 
close  gunshot  of  the  enemy's  skirmish  pits.  Fortunately  for 
us,  on  the  right  of  the  line  we  were  protected  by  woods  with 
a  growth  of  underbrush.  According  to  instructions,  at  the 
sound  of  the  bugle  we  made  a  dash  for  the  enemy's  skirmish- 
ers, who  had  fired  one  volley  and  were  about  ready  to  give  us 
the  second  round  when  we  stood  over  them.  "We  surrender, 
Yanks,"  and  dropping  their  guns,  the  Johnnies  were  bunched 
together  and  taken  back  to  brigade  headquarters.  The  four 
companies  had  captured  sixty  Confederates,  with  a  loss  to  us 
of  seven;  one  killed  and  six  wounded.  This  I  get  from  the 
reports.    My  personal  knowledge  of  the  affair   was  only  v?hat 

40 


CAPTURING  THE  JOHNNIES 

I  saw.  The  intrenching  tools  were  brought  forward  and  it 
was  only  a  few  minutes  work  to  change  the  pits  so  they  faced 
the  intrenchments  of  the  enemy.  From  our  new  position  to 
the  main  line  of  the  enemy  the  timber  land  was  more  open, 
and  we  could  see  something  and  hear  more  of  the  commotion 
caused  by  the  loss  of  their  skirmishers  and  the  loss  of  the 
ground  which  we  now  held. 

One  of  our  squad  picked  up  a  ramrod  belonging  to  the 
guns  just  captured,  and  found  it  was  easily  broken,  like  pot- 
metal.  Wo  fired  a  number  of  those  short  pieces  of  iron  at 
the  head  logs  on  the  enemy's  works.  Those  pieces  of  ramrod 
could  be  heard  singing  through  the  air,  and  they  doubtless 
left  the  Johnnies  guessing  as  to  what  sort  of  ammunition  we 
were  using  that  day.  But  our  target  practice  was  cut  short 
by  a  battery  of  the  enemy,  which  cut  loose  for  almost  a  half 
hour,  shooting  large  limbs  from  the  trees,  and  one  shot,  strik- 
ing the  fresh  earth  bank  of  our  pit,  half  buried  four  of  us. 
We  kept  our  places  in  the  pit,  preferring  to  be  covered  with 
earth,  rather  than  expose  our  bodies  to  that  storm  of  shot  and 
shell.  I  have  cometimes  thought  it  might  have  been  the 
same  battery  I  helped  to  put  out  of  business,  back  at  Big 
Shanty.  However  tliat  may  be,  I  can  imagine  the  grim  sat- 
isfaction of  the  gunners  as  they  sent  in  shot  after  shot  which 
almost  buried  the  Yankees  in  the  skirmish  pits.  Although 
no  attempt  was  made  by  the  enemy  to  regain  their  lost  ground 
at  that  point,  we  braced  ourselves  for  the  charge  of  infantry 
which  we  expected  would  follow  the  fierce  cannonade.  Re- 
suming our  target  practice,  we  kept  them  behind  their  works 
and  held  the  position  till  evening,  when  other  troops  took 
our  places. 

This  was  one  of  the  many  nerve  testing  days  of  the  Atlanta 
campaign.       Imagine,  if  you  can,  our  first  movement  in  the, 

41 


CROSSING  THE  CIIATTAnOOCIIEE. 

morning — stenlt.liily  working  our  line  up  to  tlie  outposts,  then 
the  suspense  of  waiting  for  ihe  bugles  to  sound  ''forward -/^ 
the  rush  and  the  capture  of  almost  every  Confederate  skir- 
misher on  their  line;  the  call  for  intrenching  tools,  when 
moments  of  delay  seemed  hours;  tlie  hustling  to  shovel  the 
dirt  and  change  the  pits;  the  terrifSc  thunder  of  the  cannon, 
while  shot  and  shell  swept  the  ground;  then,  going  higher, 
shot  off  great  limbs,  which  fell  over  our  place  of  shelter;  the 
suspense,  again,  while  waiting  the  charge,  which  we  were  sure 
would  follow  the  cannonade,  and  the  last  hours  of  constant 
firing  from  our  position,  and  the  eternal  vigilence  to  prevent 
the  enemy  from  making  a  move  to  assault  our  hard  earned 
position.  All  this  in  a  few  hours,  was  a  test  of  courage  and 
endurance  which  pen  cannot  portray.  Yet  this  was  the  work 
of  only  one  little  detachment  of  soldiers  on  a  battle  line  eight 
miles  in  length,  and  was  whac  we  did  in  the  hours  of  sunshine 
of  UNE  day. 

Dear  reader,  do  not  think  it  strange  that  so  many  Civil 
war  veterans  are  old,  broken  down  men  at  the  age  of  60> 
when  men  should  be  but  little  past  the  prime  of  manhood. 

Crossing  the  Chattahoochee. 

It  was  not  the  intention  of  the  writer  to  record  these  in- 
cidents in  the  order  of  their  occurrence.  The  preceding 
chapter  gives  an  account  of  one  day  during  the  investment  of 
the  city  of  Atlanta.  The  reader  will  pardon  me  if  I  go  back 
almost  a  month.  It  was  about  the  17th  of  July,  ISGl,  and  a 
few  days  after  the  "baud  concert,"  that  we  were  on  (Hitpost 
duty  at  the  river,  and  noticed  an  unusual  commotion  among 
the  boys  in  gray  on  the  other  side.  They  were  packing  up 
their  cooking  utensils  and  camp  equipage  and  hastily  forming 
in  line.     On  our  side  everybody  seemed  to  take  notice,  and 

42 


ALONG  PEACH  TREE  CREEK, 

ouo  of  our  fellows  inquired  the  cause  of  their  hurried  move- 
ments. A  Confederate  replied:  ''Oh,  nothin,"  only  you  all  are 
coming  down  the  river  on  our  side."  and  our  foes  marched 
rapidly  back  from  the  river.  A  few  minutes  later  some  one 
called  attention  to  something  up  the  river.  Imagine  our  sur- 
prise  when  looking  to  the  left  we  saw  a  heavy  skirmish  line 
of  blue  coming  down  the  south  side  of  the  Chattahoochee,  at 
quick  time  and  with  their  guns  at  "trail  arms"  Not  a  shot 
was  heard  from  the  retreating  Johnnies,  or  from  the  advanc- 
ing Yankees.  It  was  a  new  phase  of  war,  and  we,  who  had 
been  so  chumy  with  the  Alabama  boys,  almost  regreted  their 
sudden  departure.  They  were  jolly  good  fellows  and  we  had 
carried  on  quite  a  business  in  trading  coiiee  for  tobacco, 
and  some  of  our  boys  had  ssvapped  pocket  knives  with  them. 
The  i^oint  for  the  exchange  of  goods  was  a  rock  near  the 
middle  of  the  stream.  One  morning  a  Confederate  came  across 
and  ate  breakfast  with  members  of  Company  F,  after  which 
he  returned  to  his  own  side  of  the  river.  The  temporary  truce 
on  tiio  skirmish  lines  was  a  matter  which  was  arranged  by  the 
enlisted  men  of  both  sides.  Our  ofncers  never  objected  to 
such  a  compact  with  the  enemy,  and  the  Confederate  ofScers 
seldom  interfered.  It  seems  to  me,  now,  that  it  was  a  sensi- 
ble plan  and  doubtless  saved  many  lives,  and  did  not  injur© 
the  cause  for  which  we  were  fighting,  namely:  to  crush  the 
youthern  rebellion  and  restore  the  Union. 

Along  Peach  Tree  Creek. 

About  the  20th  of  July,  1804,  Companies  P  and  K  were 
deployed  as  skimishers  and  advanced  to  locate  tlie  position 
to  v/hich  the  enemy  had  retired  the  previous  night.  I  remem- 
ber the  instructions  given  to  us  just  before  the  signal  "for- 
ward" was  heard.     It  was  to  keep  well  in  line,  "guide  centre  '' 

43 


ALONG  PEACH  TREE  CREEK, 
go  slow  until  the  enemy  was  sighted,  then  quietly  signal 
"halt"  to  the  nest  man  on  the  right  and  left  who  were  to  pass 
the  signal  on,  giving  time  for  all  to  get  shelter  as  best  they 
could  before  a  shot  was  fired  at  the  enemy.  Advancing  a  half 
mile,  the  bnsh  undergrowth  was  not  so  dense  and  I  saw,  with- 
in gunshot,  a  bank  of  fresh  Georgia  earth.  Signaling  right 
and  left  as  instructed,  I  dropped  behind  a  small  tree  from 
from  where  I  saw  four  Confederates  near  the  bank  of  earth 
playing  cards.  Off  to  the  left  some  boy  in  our  line  discovered 
another  bunch  of  Johnnies  near  a  skirmish  pit  and  forgetting 
instructions,blazed  away  at  them.  In  a  twinkling  there  was 
something  doing.  A  little  cloud  of  dust  arose  as  the  John- 
nies tumbled  into  the  skirmish  pit  in  our  front,  and  a  num- 
ber  of  musket  balls  went  "pinging"  by  my  tree.  We  fired 
at  every  gray  hat  shown  above  the  bank  of  earth.  We  could 
keep  our  four  Confederates  from  doing  much  harm,  but  some 
Johnnies  farther  to  the  left  got  range  of  my  little  tree  which 
afforded  about  eight  inches  of  protection  from  the  front. 

How  I  wished  for  one  of  the  big  trees,  such  as  we  had  chop- 
ped down  for  coon  up  in  Union  county,  Ohio.  Those  Geor- 
gia trees  were  mere  saplings,  and  the  laager  I  stood  behind 
that  one  the  smaller  it  seemed  to  get.  SVe  were  sure  that  we 
had  located  the  Johnnies,  but  they  had  also  located 
me;  that  was  evident  from  tlie  shots  coming  in 
''sideways."  It  is  said  that  Gen.  Gordon  once  accosted  a  Ten- 
nessee soldier  who  was  running  to  the  rear  and  the  soldier 
stopped  long  enough  to  say,  "I  tell  you.  General,  that's  no  fit- 
ten  place  to  be,  up  thar  whar  they  are  shootin."  So,  I  also 
thought,  as  I  edged  up  against  that  miserable  excuse  for  a 
tree.  Sam  Merritt  was  mortally  wounded  and  Elijah  Lister 
was  shot  through  the   arm.     Company  K  lost  three  men. 

All  this  occurred  in  less  time  than  I  have  taken  to  write  it. 

4-1 


MOVING  UP  TO  ATLANTA. 

Intrenching  tools  were  sent  forward  and  we  established  an- 
other of  the  many  lines  of  skirmish  pits  of  the  Atlanta  cam- 
paign,  and  our  brigade  built  a  line  of  field  works  in  the  rear 
of  our  position. 

Moving  Up  to  Atlanta, 

On  the  22nd  day  of  July,  1S64,  we  advanced  within  can- 
non shot  of  Atlanta  and  began  intrenching.  A  battery  of 
heavy  guns  near  us  fired  shells  into  the  Confederate  lines  with 
a  regularity  that  must  have  been  very  trying  on  the  nerves  of 
our  enemies.  The  enemy  had  some  heavy  guns.  too.  Huge 
shells  came  over  into  our  lines,  causing  the  headquar- 
ters people  and  teamsters  to  hustle  around  pretty  liveiy.  The 
enemy  formed  in  two  or  three  lines  in  front  of  their  works. 

We  could  see  the  mounted  ofiicers  and  hear  the  cheers  of 
the  rebel  troops,  which,  no  doubt,  was  in  response  to  Gen- 
eral Hood's  bombastic  orders  issued  to  his  army  about  that 
time.  The  enemy  then  moved  toward  the  division  on  our 
left,  while  all  their  artillery  on  that  side  of  the  city  opened 
on  our  lines.  Long  before  they  came  within  musket  range 
our  artillery  fire  began  to  have  its  effect  on  their  charging 
column,  which  seemed  to  lose  its  aggressive  force,  then  went 
to  pieces  and  drifted  back  toward  Atlanta,  battered  and  beat- 
en. No  doubt,  this  demonstration  was  made  to  help  Hood's 
right  wing,  which  was  then  engaged  in  a  desperate  struggle 
with  McPherson's  two  corps,  some  five  or  six  miles  to  our 
left.  Hood  was  defeated,  but  the  army  of  the  Tennessee  lost 
their  commander. 

A  Plucky  German. 

In  one  of  the  scraps  during  the  siege  of  Atlanta,  a  German 
belonging  to  the  regular  brigade  was  wounded  and  lay  for  two 

45 


A  PLUCKY  GERMAN— ARTILLERY  DUELS, 
days  and  nights  between  the  lines.  A  heavy  rain  fell  dur- 
ing the  second  night,  and  the  soldier  made  out  to  crawl 
back  to  our  side.  I  was  present  when  the  surgeon  dressed 
the  wounds.  The  soldier  was  first  shot  in  the  cheek  and, 
while  laying  on  his  face,  a  ball  cut  a  furrow  down  his  shoul- 
der and  missing  his  waist,  had  ploughed  through  the  ilesli  of 
the  hip.  Oa  both  shoulder  and  hip  the  wound  had  opened 
to  a  width  of  two  or  three  inches,  and  the  rain  of  the  previous 
night  had  colored  the  raw  flesh  so  it  resembled  old  beefsteak, 
flecked  with  fly  blows.  He  was  stripped  of  his  clothing  and 
seated  on  a  camp  stool.  The  poor  fellow  had  evidently 
kept  the  flies  away  from  the  wounds  in  his  face,  but  the  pests 
had  done  their  work  on  his  shoulders  and  hip.  It  was  enough 
to  cause  even  an  old  veteran  to  feel  "creepy"  to  watch  the 
worms  wiggle  out  and  drop  to  the  ground  as  the  surgeon 
drenched  the  wounds  with  some  kind  of  a  solution.  The 
Dutchman  must  have  suffered,  but  he  stood  the  ordeal  brave- 
ly, and  caused  some  merriment  by  his  inquiry:  "Doc,  are 
you  gitten  dem  all  oud?" 

Artillery  Duels. 

During  the  stirring  days  of  the  summer  of  1804,  when  the 
field  guns  of  Sherman's  army  would  send  a  shot  at  a  battery 
of  the  enemy  or  when  the  other  side  fired  the  shot  anounc- 
ing  the  challenge  for  a  test  of  accurate  firing,  there  was  a 
sort  of  pride  among  us  infantry  fellows  in  the  battery  engaged 
on  our  side.  On  one  of  the  lines  of  rifle  pits  we  built  near 
the  Sandtown  road  a  battery  was  posted  about  two  hundred 
yards  to  the  left  of  our  regiment.  I  think  it  was  Battery  I> 
Second  Illinois  Light  Artillery.  Almost  every  day  we  wit- 
nessed a  duel  between  the  Illinois  boys  and  a  Confcdrate  bat- 
tery  in  their  front,  v.'hich  was  a  good  one,    too.     From  their 

16 


ARTILLERY    DUELS. 

positions,  both  sides  had  a  fair  range.  Sometimes  our  boys 
would  stand  on  the  rifle  pits  and  watch  the  effect  of  the  shots 
from  the  Illinois  battery.  More  than  once  we  saw  shells 
burst  among  the  Confederate  gunners  and  occasionally  one 
of  their  shells  exploded  near  the  guns  of  the  Illinois  boys. 
One  day  a  puff  of  smoke,  from  the  battery  across  the  field, 
shot  out  straight  toward  oar  regiment.  One  of  our  soldiers 
yelled,  "Down,"  aud  down  we  went  into  the  trench  just  in 
time  to  hear  the  s-w-i-s-h  of  the  shell,  which  barely  missed 
the  "headlog"  of  our  rifle  pits  and  exploded  a  hundred  feet 
in  our  rear.  Our  sudden  change  of  position  was  fun  for  the 
Johnnies,  who  gave  us  the  rebel  yell.  Another  day,  when  the 
men  across  the  way  were  directing  their  shots  at  our  regiment, 
a  shot  hit  the  ground  in  our  front  and,  bounding  up,  passed 
over  us  into  the  cax)tain's  tent,  destroying  the  ledger  con- 
tainingthe  clothing  account  of  every  member  of  Company  F, 
I  believe  we  were  on  same  line  and  were  eating  dinner  one 
day  when  that   mischievous  battery  opened  up  for  business. 

"Dick"  Eastman  moved  his  coffee  pot,  frying  pan  and  en- 
tire outfit  into  the  trench,  remarking:  Now,  let  'em  shoot 
their  cannon."  Before  Dick  finished  his  dinner,  a  shot 
struck  the  end  of  the  head-log  aud  as  it  went  down  it  carried 
about  one  half  a  cubic  yard  of  loose    earth   into   the    trench. 

We  thought  Dick  was  a  gonner,  but  a  moment  later  he  came 
out  covered  with  Greorgia  soil  and  minus  a  coffee  pot  and  fry- 
ing pan.  He  was  greeted  with  such  a  shout  of  laughter,  and 
Dick  was  so  thoroughly  disgusted  with  the  whole  af- 
fair that  he  did  not  even  smile  as  he  brushed  the  soil  from 
his  whiskers.  It  was  a  busy  time,  indeed,  when  the  boys  fail- 
ed to  see  something  funny. 

Letters  from  Home. 

Those  August  days  when  we  were  fighting  for  Atlanta  were 

47 


LETTERS  FROM  HOME— SWAPPING. 

not  all  bright  days.  The  path  of  Sherman  from  Ringgold  to 
Atlanta  and  Jonesbore  was  marked  with  graves  of  our  com- 
rades, some  of  whom  were  schoolboys  with  the  writer  up  in 
Ohio,"Gods  country,"  as  the  boys  reverently  named  the  North. 
We  had  not  received  a  penny  of  our  pay  since  we  re  enlist- 
ed as  veterans,  almost  eight  months  before.  But  the  mail 
from  "Gods  country,"  came  to  us  away  down  in  that  war 
scourged  state.  The  letters  from  home  were  laden  with  paren- 
tal solicitude  for  the  boy  who  was  fighting  the  battles  of  his, 
country.  How  we  prized  those  messages  of  love,  which  sel- 
dom omitted  the  kindly  admonition:  "Be  brave,  obey  your  of- 
ficers, be  true  to  your  country  and  may  God  bless  and  keep 
you."  I  believe  that  the  soldier  who  had  no  home  people  to 
write  letters  of  affection  and  encouragement  to  him  in  the  six- 
ties, and  who  still  did  his  duty  as  a  faithful  soldier  deserves 
more  praise  then  he  who  was  thus  favored.  But  fathers, 
mothers  and  children  were  not  the  only  persons  who  wrote 
letters  to  the  boys.  Almost  every  soldier  who  could  sign  his 
name  could  boast  of  a  lady  correspondent  some  place  up  North, 
and  if  closely  watched,  would  often  be  caught  looking  at  a 
tintype  picture  carried  in  the  inside  pocket  of  the  blue  blouse 
and  inspected  only  on  rare  occasions  when  the  soldier  was 
alone.  Those  noble,  loyal  girls  in  the  North  were  important 
factors  in  that  war  for  the  Union. 

Swapping, 

Some  may  marvel  that  so  much  space  in  this  little  book  is 
devoted  to  the  writer's  experience  on  the  skirmish  line.  I 
have  passed  without  mention  the  heavy  battles  of  Resaca, 
Kenesaw  Mountain  and  others  of  less  note,  because  the  read- 
er can  pick  up  any  reliable  history  of  that  war  and  find  a 
detailed  account  of  those  engagements.     Further  than  a   few 

48 


SWAPPING. 

incidents  said  to  have  occured  on  the  skirmish  lines  in  front 
of  our  armies,  I  never  read  much  about  the  men  who  stood 
next  to  the  enemy  day  and  night,  in  sunshine  and  storm. 
Official  reports  and  newspaper  accounts  of  the  Atlanta  cam- 
paign scarcely  mention  the  boys  out  in  front  of  the  battle 
lines.  The  fact  that  officers  of  high  rank  and  press  corres- 
pondents very  seldom  visited  the  boys  out  in  front,  fully  ex- 
plains the  cause  of  said  omission.  Once,  during  the  siege  of 
Atlanta,  General  A.  Baird,  our  division  commander,  came 
out  on  the  line  where  the  writer  was  stationed.  We  of  the 
rank  and  file  had  arranged  a  temporary  truce  for  that  day. 

Our  line  officers  on  duty  were  glad  enough  to  have  a  cessa- 
tion of  hostilities  for  a  few  hours.  The  blue  and  the  gray 
were  mixing  up  between  the  lines.  One  group  of  four,  two 
Yanks  and  two  Johnnies,  were  playing  a  game  of  cardp. 
Others  were  swapping  coffee  for  tobacco.  One-fourth  of  our 
number  were  between  the  lines,  visiting  and  trading  with  the 
Johnnies  Not  a  man  came  to  attention  nor  offered  the  mil- 
itary salute  as  the  general  approached  the  skirmish  line.  Here 
I  will  state  that  general  Baird  was  very  popular  among  the 
soldiers.  He  had  the  confidence  and  respect  of  his  men,  but 
those; were  not  the  days  of  "dress  parade."  Almost  every 
day  of  that  campaign  the  men  on  our  skirmish  lines  witnessed 
acts  of  cool  bravery,  whicli  would  have  won  a  medal  of  honor 
and  honorable  mention  by  the  president  of  the  United  States 
if  the  same  had  been  brought  to  the  notice  of  Mr.  Lincoln; 
hence  our  general  had  a  profound  resjject  for  the  boys  on 
duty  along  the  front  of  the  army. 

Making  some  inquiry  of  the  officer  commanding  our  part 
of  the  line,  general  Baird  seemed  pleased  with  conditions 
and,  after  talking  further  with  the  officer,  returned  to  the 
main  line. 

49 


SVVAPPING-A  DEAD   BUSHWIIACKEE. 

Our  commanding  officer  gave  orders  to  commence  lireing 
on  the  enem}'  at  the  sound  of  the  bugle.  Meanwhile  the  con- 
ference between  the  lines  went  on.  Yanks  and  Johnnies 
were  discussing  the  war,  and  our  boys  were  trading  coffee, 
pepper  and  salt  for  tobacco  or  any  old  thing  the  Johnnies 
had  to  trade.  When  the  clear  notes  of  the  bugle,  back  on  the 
battle  line,  sounded  "commence  fireing,"  and  one  of  our  men 
shouted,  "Hunt  your  holes.  Johnnies,"  there  was  fun  for 
about  two  minutes.  No  doubt  several  important  business 
transactions  stopped  then  and  there,  as  the  blue  and  gray 
instantly  separated  and  made  frantic  efforts  to  reach  their 
respective  "gopher  holes"  before  actual  hostiliiies  should 
begin.  In  obedience  to  orders,  as  soon  as  the  last  Johnnie 
had  vanished  we  opened  a  brisk  fire  from  our  linf ,  to  which 
they  responded  with  a  vim  that  picvt d  they  were  still  in  the 
fight.  The  fireing  on  our  side  began  to  slacken  and  the  other 
side  began  to  slow  up.  A  Confederate  called  out,  "Is  that  all, 
Yanks?"  Being  assured  that  was  all,  they  took  our  word 
for  it  and  within  a  few  minutes  the  men  of  both  sides  were 
again  walking  about,  without  arms,  as  though  nothing  had 
occurred  to  interrupt  our  friendly  relations. 

In  connection  with  the  above  incident,  I  give  a    few    lines 
of  "A  Veteran's  Addres-s  to  Father  Time,"  written  in  1888  by 
Sergeant  Harry  AJspaugh  of  Company  H,  81st  Ohio.     Com- 
rade Alspaugh  died  a  year  later  at  Kock  Eapids,  Iowa. 
"Father  Time,  give  us  a  glimpse  of  the  muskets   and  sabers, 

With  the  shot  and  the  shell  and  the  boys  in  the  gray. 
With  whom  we  oft'  swapjjed  while  on  picket,  like  neighbors. 

Then  shot  at  each  other  like  demons  next  day." 

A  Dead  Bushwhacker. 

Horace  S.  Colver  a  member  of  Co.  F   was  on  duty  at   brig- 

50 


A  DEAD  BUSHWHACKER. 

ade  headquarter,  during  the  Atlanta  campaign,  and  is  author- 
ity for  the  following:  While  Sherman's  army  was  pounding 
away  at  the  Gate  City  of  the  South,  in  August  1864,  a  few 
wagons,  under  a  strong  guard,  were  sent  by  the  brigade  quar- 
termaster, to  bring  in  green  corn,  which  was  then  in  hard 
roasting  ear.  Colver  was  one  of  the  train  guards-  Some 
miles  out,  they  crossed  a  small  stream  beyond  which  was  a 
field  of  corn.  Before  the  wagons  were  loaded  with  snapped 
corn,  a  storm  came  up  and  the  rain  fell  until  the  little  creek 
was  out  of  its  banks,  The  stream  was  too  deep  to  think  of 
crossing  with  the  loaded  wagons  until  the  waters  went  down. 
The  officer-commanding  the  guard  called  for  a  soldier  to 
swim  the  stream  and  carry  a  message  back  to  the  commander. 
Colver  was  the  only  one  to  volunteer.  He  was  among  the 
best  long  distance  swimmers  in  the  regiment.  Wrapping  his 
clothing  around  his  gun  and  acoutrements  and  securing  the 
bundle  on  the  back  of  his  head  he  reached  the  opposite  shore 
some  distance  down  st»ream.  Hastily  dressing  he  trudged  along 
barefooted  under  the  August  sun,  which  with  the  sharp  sand 
was  too  much  for  his  barefeet.  On  a  seat  in  front  of  a  cabin 
at  the  roadside  Vv'as  an  old  woman.  Colver  spoke  to  her,  and 
seating  himself  near  the  old  lady,  began  to  wring  his  stock- 
ings and  and  ask  questions,  The  aged  Georgian  was  evidently 
suspicious  until  Colver  gave  her  a  handfull  of  unground 
coffee.  The  coffee  acted  like  magic,  she  seemed  to  know  that 
Yankee  soldiers  were  the  only  persons  at  that  time  who  car- 
ried genuine  coffee.  Her  story  was  a  thrilling  one  as  she  an- 
swered the  numerous  questions  of  the  Yankee  soldier.  Two 
small  boys  were  hanging  around  trying  to  size  up  the  stran- 
ger who  carried  genuine  coffee, and  each  of  the  lads  were  pre- 
sented with  a  handfull  of  the  luxury.  The  boys  were  her  grand- 
children, and  the  family    was  known  amftng    (heir  neighbors 

51 


A  DEAD  BUSHWHACKER. 

as  being  opposed  to  secession,  and  for  llio  Union.  The  hus- 
band and  son,  the  later  was  the  father  of  the  two  boys,  had 
"hid  out"  to   avoid  the  Confederate  conscripting  officers. 

One  day  her  husband  took  his  ax  and  his  shot  gun  to  a 
"clearing"  which  she  pointed  out  to  her  soldier  visitor,  who 
was  now  all  attention.  During  the  forenoon  she  heard  the 
report  of  a  gun  from  that  direction  and  hastening  to  the 
clearing,  she  found  her  husband  dead.  Some  time  after  the 
death  of  the  father,  her  sou  went  as  usual  to  the  spring  for 
water.  The  mother  heard  a  shot  fired  and  running  to  the 
spring  found  her  boy  had  been  shot  down.  "I  raised  him  up  a 
little,  and  he  died  with  his  head  in  my  lap,"  said  the  mother. 
"Who  killed  your  husband  and  son,  or  do  you  know?"  asked 
Colver.  "Yes,  indeed,  I  know."  "Was  he  a  rebel  soldierT" 
"No,  sir,  it  was  Abe  Oilman  alow  down  coward  and  bush- 
whacker; I  saw  him  skulking  through  the  brush  when  I  found 
my  dead  husband."  "Do  you  know  where  he  is  now?"  The 
older  lad,  said,  "Yes,  grandma,  I  seen  Abe  up  at  the  corners, 
'totherday."  The  woman's  bony  hand  pointed  at  the  boy,  and 
her  sunken  eyes  almost  snapped  fire,  as  she  hissed:  "Kill  him 
the  first  chance  you  get."  The  boy  had  brought  out  a  shot- 
gun of  ancient  pattern,  that  he  was  cleaning.  He  told  Colver 
they  could  not  get  powder,  and  asked  about  the  amunition  the 
Yankees  used.  To  please  the  boys  Colver  gave  them  a  few 
cartridges,  showing  them  how  the  ball  could  be  detached  from 
the  paper  holding  the  powder.  The  older  lad  emptied  the 
powder  of  a  Springfield  cartridge  into  the  barrel  of  the  old 
gun,  and  Colver  warned  them  against  loading  too  heavy. 

(jiving  the  woman  the  rest  of  his  coffee,  he  was  about  to 
move  on  when  the  woman  asked  which  way  he  was  going. 
He  said  back  to  the  line  in  front  of  Atlanta.  "If  Abe  sees 
you,  he  will  kill  you  sure;  the  boys  seen  him  not  long  ago;  you 

r>9 


A  DEAD  BUSHWHACKER. 

better  look  out."  With  her  words  of  warning  in  mind  he 
kept  a  sharp  lookout.  The  sand  hurt  his  feet,  and  remember- 
ing the  old  lady's  warning,  he  left  the  traveled  road  and  going 
into  a  brushy  growth  of  timber,  from  where  he  could  see  the 
road,  put  his  shoes  and  stockings  on.  From  his  place  of 
concealment  he  saw  a  man  step  into  the  road  from  the  timber 
on  the  opposite  side,  about  one  hundred  yards  from  the  point 
where  Colver  left  the  road.  The  man  was  in  citizen's  dress 
and  carried  a  shot  gun,  and  was  watching  the  place  where 
Colver  had  struck  out  into  the  timber.  The  later,  placing  a 
fresh  caj)  on  his  Springfield  and  passing  through  the  brueh 
stepped  into  the  road,  and  leveling  his  musket  at  the  man  or- 
dered him  to  throw  down  his  gun.  The  fellow  dropped  his 
shotgun  and  was  still  looking  into  the  muzzle  of  Colver's  gun 
when  the  sharp  report  of  a  gun  close  by  led  him  to  believe  that 
he  was  fired  at  by  a  companion  of  the  stranger.  For  an  in- 
stant he  was  dazed,  then  he  saw  the  man  lying  dead  in  the 
road,  and  the  two  boys  to  whom  Colver  had  given  the  car- 
tridges came  out  of  the  wood.s  repeating,  "We  got  him,  we 
got  him."  "Who  is  he?"  asked  Colver.  "Abe  Gilman,"  said  the 
older  boy,  "the  low  down  pup  that  shot  pap  and  graudpap." 
The  older  boy  put  a  load  into  the  old  shot  gun  and  fired  it 
into  the  body  of  the  bushwacker.  The  younger  boy  run  home 
to  tell  the  news  of  Abe's  death.  After  drawing  the  loads  from 
the  dead  man's  gun,  which  was  a  modern  double  barrel  shot 
gun,  Colver  presented  it  to  the  lad  v.'ho  was  so  delighted 
that  he  se(mied  to  forget  the  wrelch  he  had  sent  into  eternity 
<nily  a  few  moments  before.  Meantime  the  other  boy  who 
h<id  carried  the  news  to  the  c;iVjLti  at  the  road  side,  returned 
with  his  grandmother  and  a  woman  much  younger,  win)  prov- 
ed to  bo  the  m'>ther  of  the  two  boy.s,  but  had  not  made  her  ap- 
pearance while  Colver    was  resliug  at  th(;    hounn.     The  .^ight 

5;5 


A  DEAD  BUSHWHACKER  -THE  DEADLINE. 

of  the  dead  bushwhacker  seemed  to  enrage  both  women  be- 
yond desoription.  They  stood  over  his  ghastly  corpse  cursing 
him  as  the  cowardly  brute  who  had  murdered  their  husbands, 
the  father  and  son,  and  by  his  acts  both  were  left  widows 
witli  two  fatherless  boys.  To  Colver's  inquiry  as  to  what  sliould 
be  done  with  the  body,  the  old  lady  said  they  would  drag  it 
away  from  the  road,  pile  brush  and  logs  on  it  and  set  fire  to 
the  pile. 

Young  Colver  delivered  the  message  at  headquarters,  and 
the  wagons  came  in  the  following  day.  Mr.  Colver  is  no  long- 
er a  young  man,  but  he  has  not  forgotten  the  tragic  death  of 
the  Georgia  bushwacker  who,  doubtless,  was  laying  in  wait  for 
the  Yankee  soldier,  when  the  latter  left  the  road  to  put  his 
shoes  on,  and  had  he  not  chanced  to  visit  th<it  humble  home 
perhaps  "Abe"  would  have  lived  to  relate  how  he  got  th© 
drop  onto  one  of  Sherman's  men,  and  the  military  record  of 
Horace  S.  Colver  would  read  something  like  this:  ''Reported 
missing  in  front  of  Atlanta,  Ga.,  August,  18G4.  Nu  further 
record  found." 

The  Dead  Line, 

Just  before  dark  on  the  evening  of  August  7,  ISGi,  our  regi- 
ment formed  outside  of  the  works  and  advanced,  making  a 
right  half  wheel,  until  the  left  of  the  regiment  joined  the 
right  of  the  regular  brigade,  which  had  advanced  during  the 
afternoon.  We  built  rifle  pits  within  a  hundred  yards  of  the 
enemy's  skirmish  line.  At  10  o'clock  that  night  the  Confed- 
erates advanced  and  for  a  half  hour  it  was  liot  work,  and  the 
fireing  was  kept  up  all  night.  I  did  not  see  a  Johnnie,  but 
kept  busy  shooting  at  the  flashes  of  their  guns.  That  night 
and  during  the  following  days  that  we  held  that  position  we 
lost  many  of  our  boys,    and   it    was  known  ever  afterwards  as 

54 


THE  DEAD  LINE. 

the  "dead  line." 

The  night  ot  Augu-st  7,  was  a  trying  ordeal  for  the  Slat. 
To  me  there  was  terror  in  the  sound  of  a  S^-ealiber  ritle 
ball  tired  from  a  point  two  or  three  hundred  feet  away,  as  it 
IDassed  my  head,  but  it  was  fierce  to  hear  one  as  it  struck  the 
quivering  flesh  of  a  comrade.  When  morning  came  we  were 
partly  protected  by  earthwork,  but  we  lost  about  twenty  men 
killed  and  wounded.  Sergeants  Talbot,  of  Co.  G,  and  Mc- 
Broom,  of  Co.  B,  were  among  the  killed,  and  Capt  Barber 
severely  wounded  "Billy"  William  s  was  standing  in  the 
trench,  near  the  writer,  when  a  ball  struck  his  head.  Billy 
was  the  leading  tenor  of  our  quartet.  I  helped  to  carry  his 
body  to  a  knoll  in  the  rear  of  the  main  lino,  where  we  found 
a  number  of  newly  made  graves.  We  prepared  the  grave, 
wrapped  the  body  in  his  own  blanket  and  laid  him  away  to 
rest.  You  may  think  it  was  a  rough  burial,  but  we  did  the 
very  best  we  could  do.  There  was  no  time  for  ceremony,  nor 
f(jr  eulogy  of  the  dead  soldier.  There  was  no  farwell  salute 
by  a  squad  of  soldiers.  The  sound  of  Confederate  shells  as 
they  came  over  from  the  enemy  was  the  only  requiem  sung  at 
Billy's  funeral.  Sergeant  H.  N.  Simmons  of  Co.  F,  with  his 
pen-knife,  carved  the  name,  company,  and  regiment  on  a 
board  taken  from  a  cracker  box.  This  board  was  placed  at 
the  grave. 

A  few  days  after  the  events  just  related,  we  were  again  on 
the  "dead  line"  and  found  a  stream  of  water  in  a  ravine  be- 
tween the  lines.  By  mutual  agreement  the  soldiers  on  both 
sides  tilled  their  camp  kettles  an<l  canteens  at  this  running 
stream.  In  the  Confederate  ranks  were  soldiers  who  at  heart 
were  "Union  men,"  and  had  been  forced  to  enlist  in  the  rebel 
nnny.  During  the  days  last  mentioned  our  boys  induced  six 
or  seven  of  the  men  they  had  met  at  the  stream  to  quit  the 


TO  JONESBOKO. 
stare     and    bars      and    come     inside    our  line.s    under     tlie 
old  flag.     The  followiug  days  no  Confederates  came  to    that 
ravine  for  water. 

To  Jonesboro. 

About  the  time  Sherman  was  preparing  to  "silently  fold 
his  tents  and  steal  away"  to  Jonesboro,  a  funny  incident  was 
related  by  Sergeant  Harry  Alspaugh,  of  Co.  H,  who  was  on 
the  skirmish  line  at  the  time  of  this  occurrence: 

"It  was  near  midnight  and  our  friends  in  gray  were  chang- 
ing outpost  sentinels  every  two  hours.  Neitlier  side  had 
fired  a  shot  all  day,  although  the  troops  on  our  right  and  loft 
kept  up  a  regular  fusilade.  A  Confedei'ate  corporal  and  his 
relief  guard  missed  their  bearings  and  were  coming  close  to 
our  line.     One  of  our  boys"  called  out: 

"Halt!  Who  comes  there? 

Promptly  came  the  answer  in  Southern  accents: 

"Cohporal  of  the  relief  gueard." 

"Go  back  and  relieve  your  own  men;  we  are    Ohio   troops." 

The  astonished  corporal  muttered  something  about  getting 
into  the  Yankee  lines,  and  hustled  liis  "gueard"  back  to  their 
own  lines." 

Before  duybreak,  about  August  27,  we  left  our  trenches 
and  marched  back  to  a  wagon  road  which  was  filled  with 
marching  soldiers.  Here  we  waited  the  passing  of  the  troops, 
and  we  of  the  ranks  and  file  realized  that  it  was  a  new  move 
of  Sherman's  to  get  Hood  out  of  Atlanta.  "Silence"  was  the 
order.  I  recall  the  suspense  of  waiting,  and  in  spite  of  orders, 
there  was  a  distinct  hum  of  conversation  along  the  marching 
column.  I  thought  of  the  rebel  battery  in  front  of  the  tronclios 
we  had  just  left,  and  was  trying  hard  to  not  think  about  the 
effect  of  a  few    shells  from  that  battery  thrown  into  the  mass 

5(*. 


TO  JONESBORO— BACK  TO  ALABAMxi. 

of  soldiers  grouped  along  the  road.  But  the  enemy,  it  appears, 
did  not  suspect  any  such  a  move  and  we  felt  a  sense  of  relief 
when  we  got  our  place  in  the  marching  column.  While  on 
the  march  to  Jonesboro  the  story  got  out  about  Sherman  warn- 
ing the  officers  that  the  soldiers  should  not  be  permitted  to 
pay  such  high  prices  for  chickens.  We  lived  well  on  the  stuff 
that  came  in  our  way.  The  last  night  of  August  our  brigade 
got  to  the  Macon  railroad  and  made  rifle  pits  in  the  form  of  a 
square,  and  destroyed  the  track  for  some  distance.  No  more 
trains  went  south  from  Atlanta  over  that  part  of  the  Macon 
railroad  until  the  close  of  the  war.  The  position  we  held  that 
night  was  known  as  "  the  bull  pen." 

On  the  afternoon  of  September  1,  the  army  assaulted  and 
captured  the  enemy's  intrenchments  at  Jonesboro. 

It  is  said  that  a  Dutchman  of  the  14th  Ohio  jumped  into 
the  rifle  pit  among  the  Confederates  and,  throwing  aside  his 
gun,  began  knocking  them  right  and  left  with  his  fists,  and 
shouting,  "Mine  Gott,  I  have  no  patience  mit  you."  Our 
division  lost  heavily  in  this  battle,  which  ended  the  great 
Atlanta  campaign. 

Back   to  Alabama 

After  enjoying  a  rest  of  almost  a  month  in  camp  near  Atlan- 
ta, the  14th  army  corps  got  into  the  chase  after  Hood,  who  was 
moving  his  army  north.  We  were  not  far  from  Kenesaw 
mountain  when  Sherman  signaled  the  famous  message  from 
Kenesaw  to  General  Corse  at  Altoona:  "Hold  the  fort,  I  am 
coming."  We  skirmished  with  Hoods  rear  guard  through 
Snake  Creek  gap  and  across  Taylor's  ridge.  The  Confederates 
were  short  on  rations  as  shown  by  the  chewed  stalks  of  sugar 
cane  which  littered  their  camps.  Crossing  the  line  into  Ala- 
bama we  passed  through  a  rich  country,  which  had  so  far  es- 

57 


BACK  TO  ALABAMA— MARCHING  THRO'  GEORGIA 
caped  the  ravages  of  war.  Corn,  sweet  potatoes,  fresh  pork 
and  beef  were  our  bill  of  fare. 

At  one  plantation,  three  daughters  mounted  on  three  large 
mules  were  lined  up  near  the  road,  grimly  watching  the  pass- 
ing  army  of  blue  coats  The  girls  were  notliomely,  and  their 
scheme  worked  all  right.  Sherman's  men  did  not  get  papa's 
three  mules.  Starting  south  figiiin  toward  Atlanta  we  hoofed 
it  over  the  greater  part  of  the  route,  the  third  time  within 
five  months.  There  was  nothing  funny  going  on  in  our  camp 
the  night  we  reached  Kingston,  Ga.,  in  a  drenching  Novem- 
ber rain,  and  could  not  find  enough  dry  wood  to  start  fires. 

Marching  Through  Georgia. 

The  regiment  held  its  election  November,  18(54.  Every 
sojfjier  was  absolutely  free  to  vote  the  ticket  of  his  choice 
Abraham  Lincoln  received  205  votes  and  George  B  Mc- 
Clellan  16  votes.  McClellan  whs  formerly  the  commander  of 
the  Potomac  army,  but  Lincoln  was  "Father  Abraham,"  be- 
loved and  honored  by  the  soldiers  of  the  Union  army.  Gen- 
eral Sherman's  order,  dated  Nov,  9,  18(54,  describing  the 
order  in  which  the  army  was  to  march  from 
Atlanta  southward  was  read  to  the  regiment,  and  I  recall  the 
splendid  spirit  shown  by  the  soldiers  and  how  enthusiastic 
we  were.  Although  the  order  did  not  name  the  place  of  our 
destination,  we  had  such  faith  in  Siierman,  that  we  were  sure 
of  success  when  our  colors  pointed  south  from  Atlanta  on  the 
Ifith  day  of  November,  18G4.  After  the  last  train  went  north 
from  Kingston  and  we  began  destroying  the  railroad  on  Nov- 
ember 12,  from  the  latter  place  to  Atlanta,  the  humblest  pri- 
vate  understood  that  the  next  letter  to  reach  him  would 
travel  by  some  route  other  then  "via  Chattanaoga  and 
Atlanta." 

<58 


MARCHING  THROUGH  GEORGIA. 

Two  days  out  from  Atlanta,  November  18th,  we  first  heard 
through  an  old  native  of  Georgia  that  Lincoln  was  elected 
president. 

Passing  through  the  little  town  of  Covington,  I  remember 
a  crippled  Confederate  soldier  was  among  the  few  bystanders. 
One  of  the  boys  called  to  him,  "Hello,  pard;  what  regi- 
ment?" The  soldier  gave  the  number,  "  —  Jawjay,  sab,"  and 
gave  us  the  military  salute. 

We  became  very  proficient  in  the  work  of  destroying  rail- 
road. The  railroads  of  the  south  were,  as  a  rule,  in  poor  con- 
dition. The  old  fashioned  slot,  or  chair,  was  used  to  connect 
the  ends  of  the  rails.  The  regiment,  and  oftimes  the  brigade, 
formed  in  line  near  tlie  track  and  "stacked  arras,"  and  at  a 
signal  the  men  would  seize  the  ends  of  the  ties  and  turn  the 
long  line  of  rails  and  ties  topsy  turvy.  Various  plans  were 
employed  to  draw  the  spikes.  We  had  nothing  but  picks, 
shovels  and  axes,  and  these  would  not  aid  us  in  tearing  up  the 
track. 

But  the  men  always  got  the  rails  loose  from  the  ties.  Thir- 
ty or  forty  ties  were  piled  up  and  a  fire  started.  The  rails 
were  placed  on  the  burning  ties  as  one  would  balance  a  plank 
across  a  board  fence  for  a  see  saw.  When  the  rails  became 
red  hot  the  ends  settled  to  the  ground.  When  time  would 
l^ermit  and  forest  trees  were  close  by,  two  men  at  each  end  of 
he  rail  would  carry  it  to  a  tree,  and  bend  the  middle  of  the  rail 
around  the  tree,  as  you  would  bend  wire  around  a  fence  post. 
I  have  seen  green  trees  more  than  a  foot  in  diameter  half 
burned  off  by  this  girdling  process. 

In  this  conection  I  will  record  an  experience  of  Uriah 
Cahill,  a  member  of  Co.  F.  Only  a  few  years  after  the  close 
of  the  war,  Mr.  Cahill  was  at  Savannah,  Ga.  He  did  not  think 
it  worth  while  to  tell  the  people  there  that  he  went  with  Sher- 

59 


MARCHING  THROUGH  GEORGIA, 
umii  through  Georgia.     Boarding  at  the  same   hotel   were   a 
number  of  young  men. 

In  their  conversation  one  day  a  young  man  from  central 
Georgia  told  of  seeing  many  iron  rails  twisted  around  trees 
like  ropes,  and  the  railroad  conductor  said  that  was  done  by 
Sherman's  men.  The  young  man  said  it  was  a  mystery  to  him 
as  to  how  Sherman's  men  managed  to  coil  iron  rails  around 
trees  and  the  others  could  not  explain  the  matter.  Mr.  Ca. 
hill  could  have  given  them  the  desired  information,  but  he 
seemed  to  have  no  interest  in  the  subject  of  their  conversation. 

One  of  the  pany  whose  home  was  in  the  path  of  Sherman's 
march,  told  of  his  mother  sending  him  to  the  mill  with  a  few 
bushels  of  corn. 

He  was  driving  the  family  horse,  harnessed  to  a  one-horse 
wagon,  and  felt  secure  because  he  was  too  young  for  conscrip- 
ting officers  to  "press"  into  the  military  service.  A  force  of 
Confederate  cavalry  was  passing  him  when  one  of  the  soldiers 
dismounted  from  an  old  blind  horse,  remarking:  "Here,  boy, 
I  want  that  boss,"  and  leaving  the  blind  animal  rode  away 
on  the  family  horse.  He  harnessed  up  the  old  horse  and  was 
driving  toward  the  mill  when  lie  was  overtaken  by  a  company 
of  Yankee  cavalry  and  one  of  the  number  said,  "Here,  boy,  I 
want  that  horse."  The  horse  was  unharnessed  and  taken 
away.  The  young  man  said,  'I  hung  the  harness  on  the 
fence  and  footed  it  back  home."  The  other  fellows  laughed 
at  the  story,  but  it  is  a  safe  conclusion  that  the  boy  did  not 
got  much  fun  out  of  his  experience  with  Wheeler's  and  Kil- 
patrick's  troops  at  the  time  of  the  occurrence. 

We  passed  through  a  beautiful  country,  and  lived  on  the 
fat  of  the  land.  The  guerillas,  or  bushwackers,  murdered 
many  of  our  men  who  were  away  from  our  line  of  march, 
foraging  for  supplies.     Before   reaching  Milledgeville,  hun- 

CO 


MARCHING  THROUGH  GEORGIA, 
dreds  of  negroes  were  flocking  after  us,  on  foot,  in  old  wag- 
ons, in  carta  and  in  ancient  family  vehicles.  Poor  mortals, 
not  one  of  them  ever  drew  a  disloyal  breath.  I  seen  wagons 
filled  with  negro  women  and  children,  their  wooly  heads 
showing  up  among  feather  beds  and  straw-ticks  like  so 
many  black  kittens  in  a  rag  basket.  Many  of  the  women 
walked,  carrying  their  household  goods. 

"Where  are  you  going,  auntie?"  we  asked  a  portly  wom- 
an with  a  huge  bundle  on  her  head.  "I  dunno."  was  the 
reply,  "I'm  just  gwine  along  with  you  all."  The  sim^Dle 
faith  of  those  black  people  in  the  soldiers  who  marched  un- 
der the  stars  and  stripes  was  really  pathetic. 

We  saw  many  Codfederate  soldiers  who  were  crippled  for 
life,  and  in  every  instance,  so  far  as  I  can  remember,  they 
were  treated  courteously. 

One  day  a  mounted  orderly,  belonging  to  headquarters, 
got  off  his  horse  and  rushing  into  a  shanty  was  looking  for 
siuoked  bacon.  A  large  vat  of  sorghum  molasses,  sunk  in  the 
ground,  was  covered  with  boards.  He  stepped  on  the  boards 
which  broke  and  the  fellow  went  into  molasses  up  to  his  hips. 
When  dragged  out  he  was  a  comical  sight.  His  high  top 
boots  were  full  and  running  over,  and  his  long  overcoat  was 
dripping  a  trail  of  molasses  as  he  led  his  horse  away. 

We  stopped  at  Milledgeville  one  day.  Some  officers  of  the 
20th  army  corps  organized  a  mock  legislature  in  the  state 
house.  General  J.  S.  Robinson,  of  Kenton, Ohio  ,was  chosen 
speaker  of  the  house.  They  had  a  high  old  time  in  the  same 
hall  which  was  so  suddenly  vacated  the  previous  day  by  the 
Georgia  lawmakers. 

While  marching  through  one  town  the  boys  went  into  the 
postoffice  and  inquired  for  their  mail. 

Foraging  parties,  commanded  by  officers  detailed  for  that 
purpose,  were  mounted  on  captured  horses  and  mules.     Wag- 

01 


MARCHING  THROUGH  GEORGIA, 
ons  were  with  every  regular  foraging  party,  and  they  were 
loaded  with  meat,  sweet  potatoes  and  other  food.  The  fat 
hogs  were  driven  to  the  point  v/hore  the  troops  camped  for 
the  night.  From  Covington  to  Milledgeville  it  was  not  un- 
usual to  see  a  few  fat  hogs  and  a  wagon  load  of  sweet 
potatoes  left  at  the  camp  of  the  previous  night.  But  the 
country  beyond  the  Capitol  City  was  less  productive.  Before 
we  reached  Savannah,  we  "Longed  for  the  flesh  pots  of 
Egypt." 

Baird's  division  was  sent  to  the  support  of  Kilpatrick,  oif 
toward  Augusta.  Again  we  passed  through  a  good  country 
and  lived  well.  Our  division  marched  through  Waynesboro 
in  support  of  the  cavalry  who  had  driven  Wheeler's  cavalry 
through  the  town.  A  woman  was  kneeling  over  the  dead 
body  of  a  Confederate  cavalryman;  perhaps  it  was  her 
husband. 

General  Joe  Wheeler  has,  in  recent  years,  been  rated  as  one 
of  the  ablest  cavalry  leaders  of  either  side  in  the  Civil  war. 
From  personal  knowledge  of  some  of  his  campaigns  I  should 
rate  him  in  a  class  below  such  soldiers  as  Jddson  Kilpatrick. 
Wheeler  seldom,  if  ever,  boldly  attacked  an  equal  number  of 
Union  cavalry  under  a  competent  leader.  His  brilliant  ex- 
ploits were  chiefly  in  rapid  marches  across  a  country  of 
which  every  mile  was  familiar  to  many  of  his  troopers,  and 
in  burning  feebly  guarded  wagon  trains  and  capturing  small 
garrisons  along  railroads,  and  thus  making  the  job  of  burning 
railroad  bridges  and  long  lines  of  wooden  trestle  work  a  com- 
paratively easy  task. 

When  Sherman's  army  reached  Savannah  many  of  the 
soldiers  wore  clothing  of  many  colors,  like  Joseph's  coat. 
At  Milledgeville,  Ga  ,  I  swapped  a  crownless  hat  for  an  old 
fashioned  silk  plug  hat.  It  was  the  plug  hat  or  a  gray  butter- 

G2 


xMARCHING  THROUGH  GEORGIA, 
uut,  so  I  took  the  former.  My  blue  trousers  were  hanging  on 
the  ragged  edge,  so  I  paid  a  forager  |2.00  for  trousers  of  gray 
and  black  plaid;  the  stripes  were  very  wide.  It  was  a  swell 
garment,  and  must  have  belonged  to  the  Sunday  suit  of  some 
young  southerner.  It  was  with  some  misgivings  that  I  cast 
aside  the  blue  trousers,  which  had  done  good  service  for 
many  months,  and  put  on  the  heavy  plaid  cassimeres,  made 
after  the  fashion  that  prevailed  among  well  dressed  men  of 
that  period.  They,  the  trousers,  were  made  very  small  in 
the  legs  almost  to  the  ankle,  where  they  expanded  to  such 
dimensions  that  they  almost  covered  my  shoes.  Many  soldiers 
wore  citizen's  clothing  on  that  march,  but  I  think  there  was 
only  one  stovepipe  hat  in  our  brigade.  It  was  really  annoy- 
ing to  be  away  from  the  company  on  that  march. 

If  I  happened  to  leave  the  column  to  fill  my  canteen  I  was 
greeted  with  something  like  this,  "Hello,  Chaplain,  where  do 
you  preach  next  Sunday?"  "Look  at  his  feet,"  etc.  The  hat 
was  rain- proof,  and  the  trousers  were  much  warmer  than  the 
regulation  blue.  The  first  Sunday  in  Savannah  brought  the 
long  neglected  brigade  inspection,  and  our  inspector  smiled 
audibly  when  he  came  to  my  place  in  the  company.  In  the 
first  "draw"  of  government  clothing,  the  plug  hat  and  plaid 
trousers  went  to  a  colored  man,  who  seemed  to  think  he  had 
struck  it  rich. 

Anderson  ville 

When  Sherman  started  south  from  Atlanta,  we  of  the  rank 
and  file,  supposed  one  of  the  army  corps  and  Kilpatrick'a 
calvary  would  reach  our  starving  comrades  at  Anderson  ville, 
Ga.  But  the  right  of  our  army  had  hardly  reached  Macon 
when  our  boys  were  hastily  transferred  from  Andersonville  to 
other   southern  prisons.     We  did  not  know   until    after    the 

03 


ANDERSONVILLE. 
close  of  the  war    that   General  Sherman,  himself,  was  so  de- 
termined to  accomplish  what  his   men  were    so  anxious  to 
have  done. 

In  a  letter  written  to  Mr.  James  E.  Yateman  of  the  United 
States  sanitary  commission,  dated  May  21,  18()5,  General 
Sherman  said:  "I  don't  think  I  ever  set  my  heart  so  strongly 
in  any  one  thing  as  I  did  in  attempting  to  rescue  those  pris- 
oners at  Andersonville,  and  I  almost  feared  instead  of  doing 
them  good  I  had  actually  done  them  harm,  for  they  were 
changed  from  place  to  place  to  avoid  me  and  I  could  not  with 
infantry  overtake  railroad  trains.  But  at  last  their  prison 
doors  are  open." 

I  remember  it  was  a  matter  of  regret  among  the  soldiers 
that  we  of  Sherman's  army  could  not  rescue  them  from  that 
loathsome  stockade,  the  story  of  which  will  ever  be  a  reproach 
to  our  boasted  civilization. 

I  will  digress,  and  give  the  reader  a  few  facts  concerning 
conditions  at  Andersonville  prison.  These  are  accepted  as 
facts  because  they  were  written  by  one  who  survived  the  hor- 
rors of  that  place.  About  the  year  1880,  it  was  stated  on  the 
floor  of  Congress,  that  Andersonville  was  no  worse  than 
northern  military  prisons.  In  reply  to  the  above,  a  com- 
rade who  spent  the  greater  part  of  the  year  186-1  in  the  stock- 
ade at  Andersonville,  wrote  the  following: 

"The  man  who  speaks  of  Andersonville  as  no  worse  than 
northern  military  prisons  can  never  comprehend  what  An- 
dersonville was. 

"He  can  never  be  made  to  understand  the  horrors  of  that 
dread  jDlace,  where  a  seething  mass  of  humanity  festered  and 
rotted  beneath  the  rays  of  southern  sun;  where  corruption 
was  in  the  air  and  men  were  food  for  worms  long  before  they 
were  dead.     No  pen  can  paint  the  terrible  sights  that  greeted 

()I 


ANDERSONVILLE. 

ones  eyes  everywhere  they  turned;  of  men's  gums  protruding 
beyond  their  mouths  and  teeth  dropping  from  their  jaws, 
or  limbs  twisted  into  horrible  shapes  and  swollen  until  the 
skin  glistened;  of  hundreds  with  their  mouths  eaten  away 
with  canker;  of  the  fearful  array  of  dead  which  every  morn- 
ing laid  by  the  gates,  with  drawn  faces,  distorted  Hmbs  and 
staring  eyes.  If  a  poet  wished  to  depict,  as  Dante  did,  the 
tortures  of  the  dammed  in  the  Inferno,  a  visit  to  the  gangrene 
ward  of  the  hospital  at  Andersonville  would  have  left  little 
for  the  imagination  to  supply.  There  he  would  have  found 
several  hundred  men  whose  tissues  were  being  devoured  by 
the  virus  of  gangreene.  Hands  and  feet  were  rotting  off,  or 
else  mortification  had  begun  under  the  skin  of  the  back,  and 
was  rapidly  eating  away  the  soft  tissues  between  the  epider- 
mis and  the  ribs;  agonizing  shrieks  and  groans  went  up  con- 
stantly, but  when  at  intervals,  the  attendants  made  their 
rounds  and  drenched  the  sores  with  solutions  of  blue  vitrol 
in  the  vain  hope  of  stopping  the  sloughing,  the  outcries  were 
sufficient  to  appall  the  heart  of  the  strongest.  We  think  it 
not  over-estimating  the  case  to  say  there  was  more  actual 
misery  in  that  single  ward  than  in  all  the  prisons  of  the 
north  combined;  and  in  the  utter  needlessness  of  having  such 
misery  occur,  consists  much  of  the  deep  damnation  of  the 
guilt  of  those  resj)onsible  for  Andersonville." 

John  McElroy,  (in  the  Toledo  Blade). 
The  same  author,  who  is  the  present  editor  of  the  National 
Tribune,  in  his  book  "Andersonville"  says:  "A  few  wagon 
loads  of  roasting  ears  and  sweet  potatoes  would  have  banish- 
ed every  trace  of  scurvy  from  the  camp  and  healed  up  the 
wasting  dysentery  and  saved  thousands  of  lives.  Any  day 
the  Confederates  had  chosen,  they  could  have  gotten  a  thou- 
sand volunteers,    who  would    have  given  their  solemn  parole 

n5 


ANDERSONVILLE— ACROSS  THE  CAROLINAS. 
not  to  escape,  and  gone  any  distance  in  the  country  to  gather 
the  potatoes  and  corn,  and  such  other  vegetables  as  were 
readily  obtainable  and  bring  them  into  the  prison.  Whatever 
else  may  be  said  in  defense  of  the  southern  management  of 
military  prisons,  the  permitting  seven  thousand  Union 
soldiers  to  die  of  scurvy  in  the  summer  of  1804,  in  the  midst 
of  an  agricultural  reigon  filled  with  all  manner  of  green 
vegetation,  must  forever  remain  impossible  of  explanation." 

Andersonville  is  not  a  subject  one  cares  to  revive,  but  in 
view  of  the  recent  attempt  to  perpetuate  the  memory  of 
Capt.  Wirz  as  a  hero  of  the  "lost  cause,"  I  am  prompted  to 
reproduce  the  foregoing  facts  as  to  the  conditions  existing 
at  the  prison,  which  was  under  the  management  of  this  same 
Wirz.  The  terrible  punishment  visited  upon  our  Union  sol- 
diers at  Andersonville  by  brutal  starvation,  the  stocks  and  the 
chain  gang,  outrivaled  the  diabolical  torture  of  their  white 
prisoners  by  the  American  Indians  in  the  seventeenth 
century. 

Across  the  Carolinas. 

Leaving  Savannah,  Ga.,  about  January  20,  1865,  we  march- 
ed up  the  south  bank  of  the  Savannah  river  to  Sisters  Ferry, 
The  river  was  on  a  rampage  and  water  covered  the  bottom 
lands  on  the  South  Carolina  side.  We  camped  there  until  we 
could  cross  over  with  our  artillery  and  wagons.  The  Georgia 
farmers  would  drive  into  our  camps  with  oysters  by  the  bar- 
rel. I  do  not  remember  the  jDrice  per  gallon,  but  to  us,  who 
had  been  paying  fifty  cents  for  a  measly  little  can  of  cove 
oysters,  the  price  asked  for  a  gallon  was  a  nominal  sum.  We 
had  sent  our  money  home,  when  paid  off  at  Kingston  in  Nov- 
ember, but  our  mess  wanted  oysters  and  wanted  them  mighty 
bad.    My  faithful  bunkmate,  A.  I.  Higgins,  called  a  meeting 

66 


ACROSS  THE  CAROLINS. 
of  the  members  of  the  mess,  namely,  A.  I.  nigoins.  T.  M. 
Beathard,  L.  F.  Wade  and  the  writer.  Comrade  Higgins 
projDosed  trading  liis  old  watch  for  a  gallon  of  oysters,  if  the 
dealer  would  pay  him  three  or  four  dollars  to  boot.  The  rest 
of  us  agreed  to  even  up  on  the  expense,  the  next  pay  day. 
Higgins  could  not  induce  the  Georgian  to  trade  that  way, 
and  rather  than  miss  a  mess  of  those  large  fresh  fellows,  he 
traded  the  watch  for  twelve  gallons — as  he  put  it,  "took  it  all 
in  oysters."  It  required  all  the  mess  pans  and  coffee  cans  we 
could  borrow  in  Co.  F.  to  hold  the  oysters.  Some  of  the 
utensils  were  loaned  for  our  use  only  until  time  to  cook  the 
next  meal,  but  Higgins  was  equal  to  the  emergency,  and  suc- 
ceeded in  borrowing  some  camp  kettles  of  the  teamsters,  pay- 
ing the  rent  in  oysters.  We  entertained  our  friends,  regard- 
less of  expense,  and  for  a  few  days  "put  on  airs  to  beat  the 
band." 

While  passing  through  the  Carolinas  we  gathered 
the  "fat"  pine  knots  for  our  evening  camp  fires,  and  for 
cooking  purposes.  The  pine  logs  had  long  since  decayed 
leaving  the  knots  which  were  glazed  with  resin.  The  black 
smoke  from  the  burning  knots  would  stick  to  the  faces  of  the 
soldiers  hovering  around  the  fires^  until  we  sometimes  bore  a 
striking  resemblance  to  the  troops  that  stormed  Fort  Wagner. 
One  morning  in  February  we  stood  for  an  hour  around  the 
fires,  before  taking  our  place  in  the  marching  column.  About 
the  time  we  were  started  for  the  day's  march  a  mounted  of- 
ficer, who  was  trying  to  reach  the  head  of  our  column,  in- 
quired, "What  troops  are  these?"  Some  comrade  promptly 
answered,  "General  Foster's  troops."  It  was  reported  that 
Foster  commanded  a  force  of  colored  troops  which  would  co- 
operate with  Sherman's  army.  As  the  officer  passed  I  took 
note  of  the  faces  near  me,  and,  no   mistake,  the   complexion 

67 


ACROSS  THE  CAROLINAS. 

did    not  correBpond  with  the   color  given  on  the    muster-in 
rolls  of  Company  F. 

It  was  a  fearful  winter  campaign.  Our  brigade,  now  com- 
manded by  Col.  M.  C.  Hunter,  built  many  miles  of  corduroy 
road.  Once,  on  that  march,  it  rained  steady  for  almost  a  week. 
One  morning  a  six-mule  team  stalled  before  getting  out  of  the 
field  where  we  had  camped.  The  mules  were  unhitched  and 
a  long  "picket  rope"  was  brought  out,  the  ends  of  which 
were  fastened  to  the  front  axle  of  the  wagon  and  about  sixty 
of  the  31st,  at  a  given  signal  hauled  the  loaded  wagon  into 
the  road.  It  was  a  practical  demonstration  of  the  fact  that  ten 
men  could  pull  a  greater  load  through  soft  ground  than  one 
mule  could  draw.  The  crossing  of  the  Catawba  river  was 
made  under  great  difficulties.  The  river  was  booming  high 
and  the  swift  current  had  twice  broken  our  pontoon  bridge. 
The  night  was  pitch  dark  and  Wheeler  was  pushing  our  rear 
guard.  Great  bonfires  were  kept  burning  at  each  end  of  the 
bridge,  General  Baird  stood  at  the  south  end  of  the  pon- 
toon. When  a  wagon  was  fairly  on  the  planking,  the  mules 
were  unhitched  and  led  across  and  ten  men  hauled  the  wagon 
to  the  north  side.  I  recall  the  scenes  of  that  night.  The 
fires  lighting  up  the  pontoon  bridge  showed  the  teamsters 
with  their  wagons  as  they  came  out  of  the  dense  darkness  in- 
to the  fire  light.  The  frightened  mules  crowding  from  each 
side  of  the  narrow  passage,  as  the  rushing  waters  surged 
against  the  canvas  covered  boats,  which  rose  and  fell  with  the 
flood  and  threatened  the  anchor  ropes  holding  the  structure 
in  line,  the  shouts  of  the  men  as  they  helped  the  teamsters  up 
the  hill  on  the  north  side  of  the  river,  the  shots  of  the  rear 
guard  who  were  keeping  VVheeler  at  a  safe  distance  over  on 
the  south  side,  the  inky  darkness  of  the  night  outside  of  the 
space  lighted  by  the  huge  fires,  all  formed  a  picture,  which 

()8 


ACROSS  THE  CAROLINAS. 

to  put  on  canvas  is  beyond  the  skill  of  an}^  artist. 

I  remember  as  we  were  trudging  along  one  night  in  North 
Carolina,  a  soldier  who  seemed  to  have  come  from  the  rear  of 
our  regiment  and  whs  tramping  along  at  the  side  of  our 
column,  began  to  talk  about  where  Kilpatrick  was  at  that 
time,  and  the  distance  to  the  roads  on  which  the  other  army 
corps  were  marching.  Some  of  our  boys  got  into  conversa- 
tion with  the  straggler  and  found  that  he  was  not  thoroughly 
posted  as  to  the  names  of  division  and  corps  commanders  in 
Sherman's  army.  At  last  some  one  inquired  the  number  of 
his  regiment.  He  gave  the  name  of  a  regiment  in  our  divi- 
sion, and  immediately  disapj3eared  in  the  darkness.  The 
boys  concluded  at  once  that  one  of  Joe  Johnson's  spies  had 
been  marcliing  with  us. 

Our  brigade  was  in  advance  when  the  army  reached  Fay- 
otteville,  North  Carolina.  As  was  often  the  case  in  that  cam- 
paign the  mounted  foragers  had  skirmished  into  the  town 
just  ahead  of  us.  The  Fayetteville  Observer  was  ''half  out"  and 
the  editor  was  "not  in,"  but  the  copies  of  the  unfinished  is- 
sue, which  were  the  first  newspa^^ers  we  had  seen  since  cross- 
ing the  Savannah  river,  were  distributed  on  short  notice. 
Here  we  saw  General  Sherman,  the  first  time  since  leaving 
Savannah. 

Our  bill  of  fare  at  Fayetteville  was  flour  "flapjacks,"  ham 
and  eggs.  As  Comrade  Higgins  remarked  at  the  time,  "This 
is  too  good  to  last  very  long"  Within  ten  days  from  that 
time  we  were  living  on  mush  cooked  in  open  mess  pans  into 
which  a  quantity  of  North  Carolina  sand  had  been  sifted  by 
the  March  winds.  I  recall  now  just  what  that  mush  and 
sand  did  for  my  teeth. 

While  on  the  march,  one  day,  a  little  girl  of  perhaps  ten 
years  came  from  a  house  wringing  her  little    hands  and  cry- 

()9 


ACROSS  THE  CAROLIN AS.— HOMEWARD. 

ing,  "Soldiers,  our  house  is  burning."  At  least  a  hundred  of 
our  regiment  hastened  to  the  dwelling,  a  snug  frame,  near 
the  road  and  found  a  log  outbuilding  on  fire,  in  rear  of  the 
dwelling.  The  intense  heat  from  the  burning  pine  logs,  had 
fired  the  pine  siding  of  the  dwelling.  Willing  hands  threw 
water  against  the  dwelling  and  tore  down  the  burning  logs, 
and  in  ten  minutes  the  fire  was  out  and  we  marched  away 
with  many  a  "God  bless,  you,  soldiers,"  from  the  mother  and 
child. 

Homeward. 

General  Johnson  surrendered  his  army  to  General  Sher- 
man April  20,  1865.  Our  army  marched  to  Washington  via 
Richmond,  Va.  The  second  day  out  from  Raleigh  we  passed 
the  residence  of  an  old  gentlemen  who  had  a  United  States 
flag  floating  from  a  high  pole  at  the  side  of  the  road.  We 
heard  the  cheering  of  the  soldiers  before  we  could  see  the 
flag.  The  North  Carolinian,  with  hair  and  beard  of  several 
years  growth,  stood  near  the  flag  pole,  hat  in  hand,  bowing 
to  the  soldiers.  He  explained  by  saying  when  Ft.  Sumpter 
was  fired  upon,  he  made  a  vow  that  he  would  not  shave  nor 
have  his  hair  cut  until  he  could  hoist  that  flag  and  see  it 
wave  over  a  united  country.  We  gave  the  old  man  an  ova- 
tion and,  with  heads  uncovered,  marched  under  the  flag. 

The  colored  people  along  the  line  of  march  would  gaze  in 
wonder  at  the  long  column  of  blue  coats.  Many  of  those 
black  people  said  we  were  the  first  Yankee  soldiers  to  pass 
through  that  country.  It  was  a  triumphant  march  for  Sher- 
man's men,  but  a  sad  home  coming  for  the  men  who  had  been 
with  Lee  and  Johnson,  and  were  then  returning  to  their 
homes.  North  of  the  Roanoke  river  an  old  colored  man  and 
his  wife  were  working  in  the  field.     I  inquired,  "Do  you  get 

70  '■ 


HOMEWARD.— THE  COW  BELL. 

pay  for  yoar  work?"  Both  were  astonished  when  told  they 
were  no  longer  slaves,  but  were  free.  The  old  man  said,  "If 
Lincoln  did  free  us,  we  are  still  in  slavery."  We  could  not 
convince  them  that  the  Emancipation  Proclamation,  with  the 
final  defeat  of  the  southern  armies,  gave  absolute  freedom  to 
the  colored  people  in  the  south.  In  view  of  conditions  since 
that  time  in  some  parts  of  the  south,  the  old  man  was  not  far 
wrong.  Although  the  brutal  murder  of  President  Lincoln 
had  aroused  the  indignation  of  Sherman's  men,  I  do  not  recall 
a  single  act  of  lawlessness  on  the  part  of  our  soldiers  in  the 
entire  march  from  Raleigh,  N.  C,  to  Washington. 

The  Cow  Bell, 

The  reader  must  allow  me  to  go  back  three  years.  During 
the  siege  of  Corinth,  Miss.,  heavy  picket  lines  were  maintain- 
ed in  front  of  the  intrenched  lines  of  General  Hallack's  army, 
but  the  skirmishers  did  not  intrench  as  they  did  two  years 
later.  In  front  of  our  brigade  the  tinkle  of  a  cow  bell  was 
heard  night  after  night.  It  was  a  first-class  imitation  of  a 
bell  strapped  on  the  neck  of  a  cow  as  she  "browsed"  among 
the  bushes.  The  men  on  outpost  would  discuss  the  matter, 
some  contending  that  the  bell  was  carried  by  a  bovine,  while 
others  insisted  it  was  a  ruse  of  the  enemy  to  get  in  close 
proximity  to  our  outposts.  At  that  period  in  the  war  it  was 
a  serious  matter  for  a  soldier  on  outpost  to  fire  at  random 
during  the  night.  A  single  shot  on  our  picket  line  at  night 
would  arouse  the  entire  division.  Two  years  afterwards  the 
sound  of  a  cow  bell  near  the  line  of  outposts  would  have  been 
the  signal  for  a  volley  of  shots,  which  would  not  disturb  the 
men  on  the  main  line  of  battle.  About  the  time  the  Confed- 
erates evacuated  Corinth,  one  of  our  soldiers  found  a  cow  bell 
with  a   short  hand  strap.     It   was   found  between  the   outer 

71 


cow  BELL-CELEBRATING  4th.— CON.  DUDE 
lines  of  both  armies.  At  that  period  of  the  war  we  had  men 
who  would  take  chances  in  order  to  learn  something  about 
the  enemy,  but  I  cannot  imagine  why  that  Confederate 
"toted"  a  cow  bell  back  and  forth  night  after  night  in  front 
of  our  picket  line. 

Celebrating  the  Fourth  of  July,  1862, 

After  the  evacuation  of  Corinth  in  1862,  General  Buell's 
army  occupied  tlie  country  east  from  Corinth,  Miss.,  toward 
Chattanooga,  Tenn  The  division  of  General  George  H. 
Thomas  was  at  Tuscumbia,  Ala.,  on  the  4th  day  of  July. 
About  noon  a  national  salute  was  fired  by  a  battery  of  six 
guns,  and  Colonel  M.  B.  Walker  of  the  31st  Ohio  made  the 
address.  In  the  evening  the  division  was  massed  at  the 
crossing  of  the  two  principal  streets,  where  a  stand  had  been 
erected  for  the  speakers.  The  flags  of  the  twelve  regiments 
were  grouped  in  a  circle  around  the  stand.  Colonel  Fry  of 
the  4th  Ky.  Inf.  read  the  Declaration  of  Independence  and 
made  a  short  address.  Among  the  other  speakers  were  Col, 
J,  B.  Steadman,  14th  Ohio;  Col.  Harlen  of  the  10th  Ky;  Col. 
Connell  of  the  17th  and  Gen.  Robert  L.  McCook  of  the  9tli. 
Ohio,  and  I    think.  Major   H.  V.    Boynton  of  the  35th  Ohio. 

A  number  of  citizens  were  present,  some  of  whom  showed 
some  interest,  but  the  greater  number  looked  on  in  silence 
and  seemed  to  be  angry  that  we  should  parade  their  streets 
clad  in  our  blue  with  a  liberal  display  of  the  stars  and  stripes. 

A  Confederate  Dude, 

While  camped  at  Tuscumbia,  a  Confederate  Lieut.  Col. 
who  resided  in  the  village  was  at  home  as  a  paroled  prisoner. 
At  that  period  of  the  war  both  sides  paroled  many  prisoners. 
The  oflficer  paraded  the  streets  in  full  uniform  with  a  colored 

72 


A  CONFEDERATE  DUDE.— PEACH  COBBLERS. 

body  servant  tagging  after  him  carrying  a  basktt  to  hold  the 
flowers  presented  to  the  officer  by  his  lady  admirers.  A  squad 
of  our  soldiers  were  cleaning  up  the  neglected  streets  of  the 
village  one  day,  a  task  often  imposed  during  General  Buell's 
day — and  perhaps  the  boys  raised  more  dust  than  was  neces- 
sary as  the  rebel  officer  was  passing.  So  the  dude  proceeded  to 
give  the  boys  a  lecture  on  the  superiority  of  an  officer  as  com- 
pared to  a  common  soldier,  using  some  profanity  to  emphasize 
his  remarks.  This  was  too  much  for  our  boys,  who  dusted  the 
young  dandy  from  head  to  foot,  scattered  the  flowers  broad- 
cast and  ordered  him  to  stay  indoors  until  he  learned  how  to 
address  Northern  gentlemen  who  were  his  superiors.  The  of 
fleer  had  the  matter  presented  to  our  brigade  commander, 
Gen.  SchosfiP,  who  ordered  the  boys  sent  to  the  guard  house 
but  they  were  soon  released. 

*'PeachCobbiers,'' 

I  am  reminded  of  some  good  times  at  Tuscumbia,  and  es- 
pecially of  the  immense  "peach  cobblers"  baked  in  largo 
mess  pans.  We  had  flour  and  sugar  of  our  own,  pork  fry- 
iugs  made  good  "shortening"  for  the  crust,  milk  could  be 
bought  by  the  gallon  and  those,  with  a  basket  of  large  Ala- 
bama peaches,  made  a  feast,  the  memory  of  which  lingered 
with  us  to  the  last  days  of  the  rebellion. 

Many  times  during  the  subsequent  throe  years,  and  espec- 
ially  when  living  on  rice  in  front  of  Savannah  and  when  eat- 
ing sandy  mush  in  North  Carolina,  some  reckless  comrade 
would  bo  rash  enough  to  mention  something  about  an  Ala- 
bama "peach  cobbler"  only  to  be  called  down  as  a  "blooming 
chestnut."  Public  sentiment  just  at  that  time  would  not 
stand  for  that  sort  of  ancient  history. 

73 


Honor  to  Whom  honor  Is  Due 

As  one  of  the  humble  survivors  of  the  war  of  the  rebellion, 
which  closed  with  the  collapse  of  the  so-called  Southern  Con- 
federacy about  forty-five  years  ago,  I  am  glad  to  extend  full 
pardon  to  those  who  for  four  years  tried  to  destroy  the 
government.  But  I  de^^ply  deplore  the  vicious  sentiment 
that  has  gained  prominence  in  recent  years  and  which  has 
been  introduced  into  some  of  the  school  books  of  our 
country,  that  the  Southern  rebellion  was  not  an  act  of  treas- 
on, but  a  "War  between  the  states." 

Our  leaders  were  Lincoln,  Grant,  Sherman,  Thomas,  grand 
old  "Pap"  Thomas,  Sheridan,  Logan  and  others.  Led  by 
them  we  conquered  treason  in  its  most  hideous  form  and, 
led  by  men  who  had  received  their  education  at  our  Na- 
tional Military  Academy  at  the  expense  of  this  government 
and  who  had  sworn  eternal  allegiance  to  the  same  govern- 
ment that  had  supported  them,  they  were  defeated  in  dissolv- 
ing a  united  government.  Robert  E.  Lee  never  held  as 
much  as  the  office  of  Road  Supervisor  in  his  native  state.  All 
of  his  distinction  before  the  war  of  the  rebellion  came  to  him 
from  the  government  of  the  United  States  and  his  only  fame 
today  rests  in  his  brilliant  efforts  to  overthrow  the  same 
government  that  educated  him,  supported  him  and  honored 
him.  What  is  the  real  difference,  if  any,  between  such  con- 
duct and  the  viper  which  "Stings  the  hand  that  has  warmed 
it?"  General  Lee  has  been  accredited  with  purity  of  purpose 
and  sincerity.  If  such  is  the  fact,  why  did  he  in  March,  1861, 
write  a  letter  to  his  son  in  svhich  he  denounced  secession  as 
anarchy.  His  partisans  today  should  explain  why  Robert  E. 
Lee  deliberately  adopted  a  course  which  he  had  declared  was 
anarchy. 

I  think  better    of    Lee    than  I    do  of  Davis,  who  in  his 

74 


HONOR  TO  WHOM  HONOR  IS  DUE. 
place  in  the  United  States  senate  did  his  best  to  encourage 
discord  and  disunion  and  later  on  as  the  head  of  the  seces- 
sion and  anarchy  heresy,  tolerated,  if  he  did  not  instigate,  the 
horrible  inhuman  treatment  of  defenseless  Union  prisoners 
who  could  hardly  muster  strength  to  step  over  their  dead; 
helpless  prisoners  who  starved,  rotted  and  perished  from  ex- 
posure that  was  needless. 

On  Dec.  28,  1862,  Davis  made  an  appeal  to  the  legislature 
of  Mississippi.  Here  is  an  extract:  "You  in  Mississippi 
know  but  little  of  the  savage  manner  in  which  war  is  waged 
by  your  barbarous  enemies.  Our  enemies  are  a  traditionless 
and  homeless  race.  From  the  time  of  Cromwell  to  the  pres 
ent  moment,  they  have  been  disturbers  of  the  peace  of  the 
world.  Gathered  together  by  Cromwell  from  the  bogs  and 
fens  of  Ireland  and  England,  they  began  by  disturbing  the 
peace  of  their  own  country.  They  disturbed  Holland,  to 
which  they  fled,  and  they  disturbed  England  on  their  return. 
They  persecuted  Catholics  in  England  and  hung  Quakers  and 
witches  in  America.  I  had  intended  to  tight  our  battles  on 
the  field  of  this  enemy  instead  of  suffering  him  to  fight  them 
on  ours.  Failure  to  do  this  was  not  my  will,  but  the  power 
of  the  enemy  who  had  at  their  command  all  the  accumulated 
wealth  and  military  stores  that  had  been  laid  up  for  seventy 
years  They  had  grown  rich  from  the  taxes  wrung  from 
you." 

In  view  of  the  fact  of  the  secession  leaders  having  managed 
to  get  possession  of  almost  every  U.  S.  fort  and  arsenal  and 
of  their  leaving  the  U.  S.  treasury  empty  before  they  fired  on 
the  stars  and  stripes  that  waved  over  Fort  Sumpter,  as  a 
sample  of  hypocritical  lying,  the  foregoing  has  no  superior. 
His  attempt  to  revile  the  ancestry  of  the  men  who  saved  the 

75 


HONOR  TO  WHOM  HONOR  IS  DUE. 

Union  needs  no  comment.  Yet  Davis  lived  after  the  war, 
trying  to  pose  as  a  martyr  of  the  "lost  cause;"  he  lived  on  to 
whine  and  complain,  refnsing  to  recognize  the  great  forbear- 
ance of  a  united  country  that  could  even  tolerate  his  presence. 

In  striking  contrast  with  the  foregoing  appeal  made  by 
Jefferson  Davis,  I  will  quote  from  Abrahara  Lincoln's  words 
to  the  people,  wliom  he  dearly  loved: 

"With  malice  toward  none,  with  charity  for  all,  with  firm- 
ness in  the  right,  as  God  gives  us  to  see  the  right,  let  us  strive 
on  to  finish  the  work  we  are  in:  to  bind  up  the  nation's 
wounds,  to  care  for  him  who  has  borne  the  battle  and  for  his 
widow  and  his  orphans;  to  do  all  of  which  may  achieve  and 
cherish  a  lasting  peace  among  ourselves  and  with  all  nations." 

I  protest  against  the  erection  of  monuments  to  Lee  and 
Davis,  because  they  are  not  proper  object  lessons  to  teach  fu- 
ture generations  loyalty  to  the  flag  and  to  our  country.  I 
would  not  raise  a  single  note  of  discord  in  these  times  of  peace, 
but  I  appeal  to  all  true  Americans  who  desire  to  cherish  and 
perpetuate  true  patriotism,  that  they  make  proper  distinction 
between  our  leader  (Abraham  Lincoln)  of  the  Union  cause 
and  the  leaders  of  an  unholy  cause,  who  seldom  mentioned 
the  name  of  Lincoln  but  to  revile  him  as  a  brute,  a  gorilla 
and  a  monster. 

In  memory  of  the  thousands  who  in  their  youth  gave  up 
their  lives  for  the  integrity  and  unity  and  greatness  of  this 
country,  and  whose  blessings  are  yours  today,  make  distinc- 
tion between  the  leaders  of  the  men  who  preserved  this  Union 
and  the  leaders  of  secession,  who  did  their  very  best  to  des- 
troy it! 

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